


It's No Myth

by wordwinx



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordwinx/pseuds/wordwinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Heathcliff disappeared, he was destined to find more than his fortune.  There were opportunities beyond his dreams, and there was Adam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic incorporating a literary classic. It is a work in progress which means I may change by alteration or addition this first chapter as I continue. I was inspired by fan art on my twitter feed to write a "bodice-ripper" (reluctant but consensual) romance. // Thank you Emily Bronte and Micheal Penn.

It couldn’t be much further. The woman at the mercantile had said he couldn’t miss it, but Adam had been riding and wandering for hours now. Everything hurt especially his pride. The journey was made even more tedious by the suspicion turned certainty that he should never have come in the first place.

The man had secrets, a troubling past. This man he knew only as Heathcliff had changed the course of his life the first moment he glowered at him across an intimate corner table at the tavern. He keeps to himself, was all the other boarders had to say. They had apparently been dissuaded by the sallow specter of a man to inquire further for knowledge of him. Histories developed. Heathcliff was a pirate who escaped execution and changed his name. He was a former slave who slew his master and changed his name. The tales always included a Mediterranean origin from which he sailed away and adopted a new identity, but honestly who would choose the name Heathcliff. He himself said the word with apparent revulsion. It didn’t take Adam long to realize it wasn’t the name but his own self that he despised. Heathcliff was fighting a war within. Still, none of the stories the villagers told of this sullen stranger rang true. Who could have guessed, that the source of the man’s brooding sentiment was a spirited, waif of a girl who chose legacy over love? Heathcliff preferred to entertain the lies.

By the time folks had determined the sorrow Heathcliff endured was less his doing than the whims of fate, they saw him with new eyes. They wanted him to win at whatever conflict real or imagined he suffered. The thought of someone as forlorn as he was walking the earth instilled in them the most abysmal disposition that thwarted sleep and appetite. Something had to be done. Although, Heathcliff would never let anyone get near him, he couldn’t stop them (and he would try to if he knew) from including him in their family prayers. Please, Lord, if we may, trust in that man, Heathcliff, his intent to better himself and more importantly, grant him a heart to know happiness again when it comes. Within a fortnight of his arrival, Adam was made known of their prayers on Heathcliff’s behalf. Within moments of their meeting, Adam wanted very much to be the happiness Heathcliff sought if it served the universe to make it so. Apparently, the universe was not to be rushed in the business of granting wishes. Adam was in for a long wait.

When Adam Lambert arrived, he was a stranger too, but of a superior sort, established already and sound. Adam was a gentleman with honorable class but not too elite to deny some company at the pub by week’s end. He entertained the patrons with scandals from abroad that they hardly cared were farces although he swore to their legitimacy with an earnest wink and a grin. They soon discovered that a bit of goading along with a third round would earn them a song, maybe two. When implored by the ladies to share his lovely voice in a more appropriate environment for all to enjoy, Adam bashfully declined, claiming he didn’t know any psalms for Sunday. Fearing the man lacked a savior, the townspeople, pious to a fault began to pray for Adam as well. In that way, the two strangers became a pair in their minds – a pair of opposites estranged but worth saving.

Upon closer study, the two men, similar of stature could be brothers if their father were the sun and their mother, the moon. Where Heathcliff was darkness, Adam was light. Heathcliff’s eyes were black and bottomless. Adam’s – blue pools of bliss. Heathcliff was dependent on a benefactor but resisted a handout. Adam, a man of letters employed himself independently which served well his penchant for giving. Before long, the two men had been mentioned to one another on many occasions. It irritated one and intrigued the other. One night, as fate would allow, they met.

Heathcliff had to get out somewhere beyond the four walls he occupied. He found himself obliged to sit far in the corner of the pub so as not to sour the mirth of the other patrons who were bent on celebrations of one sort or another in spite of Heathcliff’s determination to sulk. He noticed the source of their glee. It was the young man, called Adam who although nearly his own age had lived so much more of his years than Heathcliff had. Perhaps because Heathcliff had forgotten how to feel, he looked upon Adam without contempt or envy but mere wonder. How a life could be so full was beyond the imagining of one who suffered so meager a birth. Adam was unlike Heathcliff, but he bore no resemblance to those who had hurt him either, long ago in that previous life he hardly remembered. Adam’s wealth was not the kind spoilt by coin. The local mentions of Adam he tried mightily to ignore were singular in their theme, philanthropy. Adam had not been enabled by his gentility but empowered by it to do good. Now, as Heathcliff sat much further away than the expanse of the room, he knew he could never be that man. Try as he might to establish himself with purpose and duty, he would never be enough to give as Adam could. Heathcliff stayed longer and drank more than he would normally allow. He hoped for courage to end it – end the bitter night, end this hapless quest, end his pitiful life . . . just stop, somehow finally at peace. 

Then the din of the patrons' laughter combined with the thud and clink of glasses against the bar, subsided. The silence was merely a sudden hush of anticipation, then one voice – just one voice rose above and claimed the rafters. Music, sweet music. Adam sang. All eyes were on him as he looked out upon them sharing his words like a gift for each one. And Heathcliff looked too. Could it be that this angel would spare a blessing for him? Could a man so enlightened reach far enough down to give the lowliest in the room his hand? Adam met Heathcliff’s eyes and neither looked away. Adam continued to sing, the lyric seemed just for Heathcliff alone, something about outlaws of love. The beautiful anguish that suddenly claimed him reminded Heathcliff of the love he had lost and the maddening desire to regain it at all costs. When the song subsided and the cheers returned. Heathcliff rose his glass along with the rest but not for the courage to the end it as he had hoped for before, no. This toast was a pledge to the night, to the quest, to himself and even the angel to finally start.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They met as was destined to be, but there were other forces that put them under the same roof. The sparks that flew between Adam and Heathcliff would either warm the hearth or burn the whole lot to the ground.

Adam dismounted his steed and stepped gingerly across the moor. “Damn you, Heathcliff! Why must you torment me so?” He got no response save a rush of larks overhead and a squish of mud underfoot. As for the misery of these current circumstances, Heathcliff was no more responsible than the puddle that drowned Adam’s boot. Adam had not been summoned to champion this odious terrain, quite the contrary. When Heathcliff departed in haste, he forbid Adam to follow. Surely, the man knew that commanding Adam to stay away was akin to an invitation to come. And thus, Adam returned to his original deduction, his suffering was all Heathcliff’s fault. He would find him, scold him . . . hold him. Then what? 

Adam’s mission was search and rescue if needs be, but once he had saved Heathcliff from himself and the insufferable foes of his past, what then? Adam considered turning back in order to save Heathcliff the trouble of turning him out, but the horse nudged his shoulder as if entreating a word of advice. Surely the path ahead would be more affable than the ground they’d covered thus far. Adam trudged on, remembering the chronicle that led him here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam had tried to find Heathcliff after his performance at the pub, but by the time he’d made his departure with polite regrets, the corner table was abandoned. Adam rushed out of doors just in time to see the whip of a cloak crossing the dreary street. 

“Wait!” The figure continued without pause. “Hullo, there!” Adam made chase realizing the man had quickened his pace. “Stop, please, I want to talk to you.” The man proved no match for Adam’s stride and was soon overtaken. Adam spun him around under a street lamp and peered into his face. It was a lean face, wet on the cheek and furrowed on the brow. The eyes, though . . . his eyes revealed the glimmer of youth and of longing. They were beautiful but devastating.

Adam blinked away the sudden whimsy that he was beholding a spirit when the man spoke as if he were an oracle. He reached out and gently touched Adam’s chest. “Are you real?”

Adam put his hand over the man’s. They were both of them warm and alive. Adam nodded. “Yes. I’m Adam.”

The man withdrew his hand. “I must go.”

Adam called after him. “But who are you?”

“I am no one of consequence.”

“Stay, and you shall be.” Adam’s voice was swallowed by the wind as the man disappeared from view.

Adam returned to the tavern. The bartender offered up a name. “Oh. You mean that Heathcliff.” He may as well have said, “Oh that dog that lives in the alley.”

Perhaps ‘that Heathcliff’ was indeed a man of little consequence, but when Adam glanced his way, he had bared his very soul as if Adam’s voice was the only force to save himself from oblivion. Adam hadn’t connected with another person in a very long time. Perhaps ‘that Heathcliff’ shared with him a commonality that they could nurture and cultivate into a friendship. Hope was a delicate thing that when endured too long became desperation. Adam was willing to risk the potential disappointment in order to quell his curiosity if nothing else. He asked the universe to please, let it be something. 

The next day, Adam made conversation with the innkeeper who was happy to oblige him with details he had already provided at least a half dozen times before, but to which Adam had previously paid no mind. Heathcliff’s benefactor was Lieutenant Commander Michael Orland, a retired Naval Officer who was now a successful merchant seafarer. Heathcliff kept his books on goods and services. Heathcliff was also provided room and board while the Commander was abroad. The Orland Townhouse was the family’s winter home. It was summer now, so the wife and children were occupying their country estate for the next few months. Heathcliff, along with a small staff inhabited the townhouse year round. 

It just so happened that the Lieutenant Commander was a former colleague of Adam’s father, and it just so happened that he was currently ashore. Adam looked skyward as if the universe had heard his plea. Adam required an address. It would certainly be rude not to come calling. Adam sent a messenger who returned promptly with an invitation which enthusiastically skipped a dutiful tea and committed him whole-heartedly to dinner.

Adam was received in the drawing room. The Lieutenant Commander seemed shorter than Adam remembered until the man exclaimed how impressively Adam had grown. The last time they’d met, the Commander towered over him because Adam was merely a lad. Apparently the passage of time was equally befuddling for the Commander. He spoke to Adam and Heathcliff as if they were boys. 

Adam recognized immediately the same mysterious quality in Heathcliff that he had witnessed before, but where his eyes glittered with celestial depth last night, they were opaque and unreadable now. Whatever vulnerability, Heathcliff may have demonstrated under the spell of Adam’s voice, he had certainly replaced with defiance now. Adam still felt determined to regain, Heathcliff’s favor. He was the most interesting person Adam had met since he left home. What did he have to lose?

Heathcliff was acting rather peevish, his arms akimbo refusing to entertain the idea of coincidence. No doubt Adam had observed how his voice had moved Heathcliff, prompting him to pursue him out into the night. Now that he had Heathcliff’s attention he probably had an ulterior agenda to press, a proposition for gain at Heathcliff’s expense. Heathcliff was suspicious of anyone who smiled as much as Adam did. What on earth did it take to provoke such gaiety? Heathcliff convinced himself that Adam was either deceitful or dim-witted. The man who sang at the tavern was only a man. Heathcliff had heard tell of ghosts on the moor, but he scorned himself for entertaining the idea that his very own guardian angel had taken Adam’s body as a vessel to bestow upon him a message of hope. How absurd for a mere mortal to believe Heathcliff’s ecstasy in the music had anything to do with Adam personally. Heathcliff’s decision to fulfill his original quest to become a man of honor was completely reborn at the pub. Adam may have had a part in that, but now Heathcliff could proceed just fine on his own.

“Adam, this is Heathcliff. Turns out, of late, this young man has a bit of ambition in him after all. If he can prove himself a viable candidate, I just might start him as a steward on my ship and let him work his way toward self-employment as a merchant in his own right.” 

“Heathcliff, this is Adam Lambert. His family and I have shared profitable endeavors in trade.”

“Corn? Cotton?” Heatcliff attempted to imply Adam’s interests were common.

“No. The Lamberts have always engaged in . . . exotic commodities.” The Commander patted Adam’s back, but Heathcliff noticed the smile had faded from his lips.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Heathcliff.” 

Heathcliff shook Adam’s hand and begrudged him a timid, “Likewise” in response.

Adam remained under Heathcliff’s scrutiny during dinner. His gaze was so intense, Adam who was usually quite open, self-consciously averted his eyes. It was a clever strategy for Heathcliff to employ. It prevented Adam from looking too closely at him. Adam would have to stay on this toes with this one.

Heathcliff was so guarded throughout the evening, he didn’t realize the conversation suddenly demanded his inclusion. “Why, you wouldn’t mind at all, would you Heathcliff?”

“Hmm? Mind what, Commander?”

“You would welcome a little camaraderie, am I right?”

Adam interjected. “You’re too kind, Commander. I really mustn’t take advantage of your hospitality any further. I’m actually quite comfortable at . . . ”

“Nonsense! That tired old inn is hardly appropriate for a gentleman. Besides there are plenty of rooms under my roof along with a waiting staff, and . . . well, Heathcliff here.” Heathcliff stared blankly, powerless to prevent what was happening. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Without any further ado, Adam moved into the Orland family townhouse. The Lieutenant Commander helped him settle in before he embarked on the next expedition. Everything was going rather smoothly until he left. When Adam and Heathcliff were alone for the first time, the tension that was there when they formally met returned. Adam offered to help in practically every capacity imaginable, but no one accepted. The staff playfully shooed him away. Heathcliff deterred him from browsing the accounts with his indignant scowl. He didn’t want anyone snooping over his shoulder.

Now that Adam had moved into the Orland House, the villagers no longer deemed him an eccentric outcast. He was one of the privileged now, exactly where he belonged. Unfortunately, Adam no longer believed he belonged anywhere. He had decided when the Lieutenant Commander returned in the fall and his family came to the townhouse for winter, he would be on his way. Until then, he would do all he could for the community he currently called home. 

Adam continued to perform generous acts. He donated enough money to the local orphanage for them to purchase new primers for the school-aged children. Since he was no longer required to pay his keep at the inn, he gave that amount to the innkeeper’s daughter so that she might start her own seamstress shoppe. It didn’t go unnoticed. High society ladies showed up unannounced on the premise of passing by. Of course, they wondered if Mr. Lambert, the young, eligible bachelor that he was, might grace them with his presence at the next gala event. Adam graciously declined or promised he would consider it. Later if the servants inquired further, Adam would make the excuse that he didn’t like parties. He would swiftly change the subject and ask them why Heathcliff never went out. They loved to tell and re-tell Adam the story about Heathcliff’s broken heart, about how when he made his fortune, he’d return home one day a gentleman worthy enough to take his lady’s hand. Adam could hardly fathom the validity of so shallow a woman, and Heathcliff suspected that Adam’s disdain for parties had more to do with its giggling guests than starched collars. 

One night, Adam stepped into the library with a flourish and announced that he was going out. “Do you want to come with me?”

Heathcliff looked up from his book. “Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you want to get out? Don’t you want to breathe the night air and refresh yourself?”

“Not if you’re going to the pub.”

That’s exactly where Adam intended to go. “All right, then, a walk. How about a walk?”

“It’s quite damp. What if I catch a chill?”

Adam huffed. “Why must you torment me so?”

“I have no intent to torment you, Adam. You asked me to join you.”

Adam sighed. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Nor can I.”

“So, I’m off to the pub, then.”

Heathcliff returned to his book. “Have a delightful time.”

Heathcliff lie awake until Adam stormed up the stairs. He was making so much noise, Heathcliff feared he would wake the servants. He stepped into the hall. 

“Adam?” 

Adam startled like an animal. “Gah!”

“Shhhh. Are you all right?”

“You scared me.”

“Why didn’t you light a candle?” Heathcliff was already acquiring a taper.

“Please go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Heathcliff held the candle high. Adam was disheveled. Heathcliff had never seen Adam unkempt. He took a long look at Adam’s face. It was smudged and dirty. “Were you in a fight?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“What happened to you?”

“Please, leave me alone. I’m so tired. I just want to . . .”

“You have a mark.” Heathcliff touched Adam’s cheek, but he pulled back. Heathcliff put the candle closer. “Is that rouge?”

Adam growled. He dug for his handkerchief then scrubbed his face with it.

“Hold on. You’re going to take the hide off.” Heathcliff took the cloth away from him. “Come with me.”

Adam followed him to the washroom. Heathcliff traded the candle for an oil lamp and filled a basin with water. Adam protested he could do it himself, but the way he leaned on the wall proved otherwise. He’d been through an ordeal of some kind, and Heathcliff suddenly felt sorry he hadn’t gone with him.

“There. Good as new.” Heathcliff held the cloth under Adam’s jaw. “It’s not your color.”

“Make merry of it if you like. I was accosted.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I fell.”

“Did someone strike you?”

Adam looked at the floor. Heathcliff barely heard him. “Someone kissed me.”

“A woman?”

“Well, it wasn’t my rouge now was it?!”

“I take it her advances were unsolicited.”

“She was a . . .” Adam lowered his voice. “A prostitute.”

“She must have been a big one to knock you down.”

Adam shivered with disgust. “I fell trying to get away from her. I tell you, she might have given me something if I’d let her.”

“I believe you’re supposed to give her something.”

Adam was not amused. “I meant a disease.”

“I meant a clue.” Heathcliff looked at him directly, and Adam froze. “You look cold. Should I put the kettle on?”

“No, but thank you. I just want to lie down. It was so mortifying.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive it.”

“If I fail to make an appearance at breakfast, worry not, I shall have died by my own hand.”

“Le grand mort? Or la petite mort?”

Adam actually gasped. “I’m not going to honor that with a response.” 

Heathcliff may have actually smiled. They never spoke of it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another occasion, Heathcliff walked into the kitchen as a new boy from the market was unloading the cook’s order. Adam was there, ever-charming and tipped the boy much too generously. Heathcliff commented that Adam would go broke in a fortnight if he continued to suffer that level of gratuity. Adam ignored him, but Heathcliff kept a watchful eye. The boy came as often as the cook needed provisions which equated to several times a week. Each time it seemed, he lingered longer than the last. When Adam was away, the boy would leave heavy-hearted. When Adam was there, he stood tall. If Adam patted his back and said, ‘good lad’ the boy would practically float out the door. The cook raised her brows but minded her perishables, the slightest smirk on her lips.

Heathcliff worried. He doubted there would ever be a right moment to address the situation. He waited until they were having a brandy after dinner then made mention of the daily events which included the youth in question.

Adam smiled. “He’s a good lad, reminds me of myself to a degree. Although, I must admit he’s much more industrious than I was. He takes pride in his work. I admire that. And he’s smart as a whip! Did you know he factors the grocery bills in his head? And keeps a record of orders to be more efficient with inventory?”

“You don’t say.”

“He sometimes delivers to several households at once in his wagon but keeps them all straight, right down to the penny. Perhaps he’ll be a bookkeeper like you one day.”

Heathcliff took offense. “I’ll wager he’ll be a grocer like his father.”

“You don’t know the boy at all, do you? His father may have been born a grocer, but he became a soldier. The man died a hero, a casualty of war. You mark my words, his son is destined for better things.”

“You seem . . . fond of him.”

A cloud came over Adam’s countenance. “Yes. I suppose I’ve said as much already, haven’t I?”

Heathcliff felt compelled to continue. “Adam. I fear he fancies you, as well.”

Adam winced. “You fear it.” He worked his lips and seemed to be putting his thoughts together carefully. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but the spark in his eyes was as good as flint. This . . . this was Adam angry. “What kind of man do you think I am?” 

That, Heathcliff realized was an impossible question to answer. “I wasn’t insinuating . . .”

“Yes, you were.”

“Let me explain myself.”

“There’s no need. I’m not an idiot!”

“And neither am I.”

Adam stood up and began to pace. His distress was painfully evident in the way he combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m . . . aware of it, the boy – how he feels for me, I mean. I’m not a scoundrel, Heathcliff! I would never . . . Christ, he can’t be more than fifteen.”

“He’s seventeen. I asked.”

Adam sunk into his chair again. “That was the age, I suppose . . . that I knew. Well, I knew before then, but . . .”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Do you really?” 

Heathcliff felt shamefully inadequate to ponder such things. He knew what it was to be in love, to long for someone’s love in return. And, he knew affection as a child, before the bitter torment of his real existence consumed him. As a grown man, Heathcliff had heard others speak of desire, of need, but for him the physical drive was only biological without any emotional attachment. He shook his head apologetically.

“Well, it’s bloody awful!” Adam rubbed his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“I . . . I’ll speak to the cook – see to it, they assign a replacement.”

“Don’t! Heathcliff, please don’t do that!”

“He’s in love with you!” 

“Is that a crime fit to cost the boy employment?!”

“Don’t you feel a little discretion is in order?”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“The cook already knows.”

“That’s impossible.”

“She has a kind heart but a loose tongue.”

Adam was shaking his head in denial. “No, no. Don’t do anything. Please, Heathcliff. Let me handle this.” 

Heathcliff bristled. “Maintaining the reputation of the Lieutenant Commander is . . .”

“Bollocks!”

Heathcliff raised his voice. “As long as you are a guest in this house . . .”

Adam looked surprised. “My god, you’re jealous aren’t you? Of the relationship I have with him?”

“Relationship?! You flatter yourself. I may be dependent on a benefactor for now, but to be jealous of a delivery boy? How dare you?”

Heathcliff stormed out of the room and into the garden. The moon was bright enough to illumine the path along the hedge. Heathcliff stopped at the fountain when he heard Adam’s footfalls behind him. They both stood silent, eavesdropping on the crickets. 

Adam approached softly. Heathcliff wondered why he was still running and why Adam was still following. “Heathcliff, I apologize. I should have done something before it got this far. He’s such a pretty thing, so sweet. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Please understand, that when I said you were jealous of my relationship, I meant the Lieutenant Commander. I would never compare you to a delivery boy.”

“Because, clearly, I am not a pretty thing.”

Adam didn’t know what to say to that. Did Heathcliff wish he were pretty for Adam’s benefit? That couldn’t possibly be right. “I want you to know that I would never bring shame on this house . . . or on you. I ask of you, give me time. I promise I will correct this oversight with the utmost haste.”

To continue the argument would be futile. Heathcliff would feel he’d lost something regardless of the outcome. “All right. Do as you please.” 

This time Adam didn’t pursue Heathcliff when he walked away. Adam left town the following day before dawn without revealing his destination. All the footman could tell them was that Adam had packed light and taken the train. Was that what he had meant when he promised Heathcliff a solution? Just leave with no goodbye, no forwarding address? When he returned more than a week later, he was refreshed and smiling again. The staff was so happy to welcome him back they readily accepted without further questions his excuse of urgent business. 

The delivery boy stopped coming. The cook sent the footman instead for a time, until one day the wagon appeared again, pulled by an old chap as spry as a jester. He had the cook in stitches, but they quieted when Heathcliff came through the door. He inquired what had happened the boy who used to deliver their parcels. The elder puffed up his chest and with a twinkle in his eye proudly announced the lad had gone to university. The cook clapped her hands.

Heathcliff was shocked. “How?”

The old chap shrugged. “T’was a scholarship of some sort or another – had to do with his father being a veteran and a hero to boot, anonymous donation they said – all paid, down to the penny.”

Heathcliff whispered it. “Down to the penny.”

The cook wiped at her tears. “Imagine that Mr. Heathcliff. One day he’s a grocer’s son, the next a gentleman, with an education. Imagine.”

“Yes, I can imagine it.” Heathcliff had been working for the Lieutenant Commander for three years but what had he to show for it? At this rate, Adam’s pretty delivery boy would be an honorable man before he would. Heathcliff ground his teeth. Apparently he had reason to be jealous after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenged by tumultuous pasts, Adam and Heathcliff struggled to live together in peace. At some point the tension was bound to break.

In time, Adam had worn down Heathcliff’s resistance, and they occasionally managed a civil exchange. Heathcliff didn’t ask Adam if he had funded the scholarship that sent the grocer’s son to college. When Adam neglected to chide, ‘I told you so’, Heathcliff surmised he was likely the anonymous donor. In his own way, Adam made good on his promise, so Heathcliff put the conflict to rest. 

Adam had never divulged the extent of his bank account, but if he could afford tuition in full along with several other gifts within the community, then his affluence surpassed Heathcliff’s original expectation. When the Lieutenant Commander said he had done business with Adam’s family, Heathcliff assumed they held equal shares. Heathcliff knew the Commander’s accounts backwards and forwards. Any role he had played in the Lambert’s business must have been distinctly subordinate. No wonder he fawned over Adam that night. The Commander must have known when Adam arrived in town. He had been settled at the inn for several weeks before he met Heathcliff. In fact, Adam was quite popular. Why hadn’t Adam been invited to the Orland House before he sent a messenger himself? They were simply musings for Heathcliff that bore little weight on his mind, a curiosity and nothing more.

Adam learned to accept Heathcliff’s reserved nature. His bitterness subsided, although he continued to have episodes of melancholy that lasted days in a row. Adam tried to give him space, but he believed Heathcliff could lessen his sorrow if he were willing to unburden himself strictly in confidence, of course. He’d been living with the man the majority of the summer, and yet he still knew very little about him. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Adam remained tireless in his quest to uncover the mystery of the Lieutenant Commander’s black-eyed bookkeeper. The accounts he entreated of the staff were apparently finite in quantity and moreover, limited in quality. The more the stories were repeated the more the details broke down. A book read too often will loosen its binding and disintegrate in one’s hands. The only facts that remained steadfast were that Heathcliff and his family were estranged. He loved a woman he couldn’t have. And Heathcliff had put his faith in the procurement of a fortune. Oddly, when Adam asked about the woman who owned Heathcliff’s heart, no one had any notion of her person. What does she look like? How is her temperament? What is her name? Apparently Heathcliff had kept it all to himself. They knew nothing of his family or even if Heathcliff was his sirname or Christian name. Exactly how much money was the Lieutenant Commander paying Heathcliff to keep his ledger and manage his house? It seemed that most people were satisfied enough that whatever Heathcliff neglected to reveal was better left unknown. 

Although gossip continued throughout the community about the odd boarders of the Orland House, the two men themselves grew less and less suspicious of each other. Their secrets were not immediately threatening, and they both seemed to be striving to reach lofty goals that warranted at the very least, mutual respect. They still wondered why they had been brought together. They couldn’t make sense of it. Maybe later, the universe would offer them a deeper understanding of their relationship. Sometimes they avoided one another on purpose in order to see if circumstances would generate proximity. After spending the day pursuing separate interests, they would walk into the same room, reach for the same item, call a servant for the same task. The occurrences were so habitual, the staff learned to predict their needs. They made two of everything.

The greatest and most disturbing oddity was that the two men sensed one another seemingly through an alternate dimension. Neither would openly admit that they had exchanged something unexplainable the night at the tavern when Adam sang to Heathcliff, but they couldn’t deny the affinity – less than brothers but more than neighbors, too contrary to be friends. Adam would lie awake and try to envision that ethereal place beyond the walls of the pub but within the confines of his song so he could study the fiber of it. Heathcliff fought to suppress the memory all together for fear of what Adam had seen when he looked inside his soul. Heaven forbid the possibility that Heathcliff had the capacity to reciprocate in such a state, to pass through a portal to Adam’s heart. He laid his hand on the man’s chest. He felt the beat of his passion beneath and was awestruck.

Heathcliff felt himself becoming attached. Not only could he tell when Adam was at home, he missed him when he was gone. He had turned Adam down too many times for Adam to bother to ask him if he would like to accompany him on his excursions. When he returned, Heathcliff didn’t pry. Any eavesdropping on the staff was completely unintentional and exceedingly vague anyway. Regrettably, when Adam was home, he was too boisterous for Heathcliff’s taste. The man made noise, all day long – opening windows, scooting chairs, just rearranging things in general. Everyday functions were augmented by lavish degrees. Adam dressing of a morning was a symphony overture in itself. He was by no means clumsy or brutish. Adam simply played his life at allegro. He would burst into Heathcliff’s office excited to read something to him often prompting a hearty conversation. Heathcliff would scold Adam for taking him off task, sometimes having to physically escort him through the door. Adam would then wander out to the garden, softly singing to himself. The birds knew their place and were still. Entire afternoons were lost when Heathcliff was unable to get a melody out of his head.

Coincidentally, what had brought them together was now pulling them apart. The music became a source of contention. Adam took a short trip into the city to see a show and returned with an idea. He was simply vibrating with enthusiasm. Adam was determined to do what he loved best, sing. If he started a small community theatre in their vicinity, not only could Adam perform as he wished, but others could entertain as well. An entirely overlooked audience, who never patronized the pub, would have an opportunity to share music, dance, drama – the arts. The more Adam spoke of his plan the more involved it became until it sounded like he would be spending all his time there. Heathcliff’s response had been selfishly pessimistic. He picked at unfinished details reminding Adam that he was a merchant not a proprietor and finally questioned the very necessity of such an establishment in their simple environment. He hurt Adam’s feelings.

Adam didn’t mention it again, but Heathcliff later discovered he had continued with the planning of his theatre regardless of Heathcliff’s advice. He was already spending hours and hours away from home. Heathcliff knew it served him right. Adam would have consulted with him on every step if he’d only shown an iota of interest. The regret sent Heathcliff into a mood which made Adam’s jovial nature even more irritating. They were due for an argument any day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

One night, Heathcliff awoke from a sound sleep, disoriented. He heard something and sat up to clarify the source. It was Adam – coming home late again, a little too much to drink. Adam – trying to be quiet which was as charming as it was impossible. Adam – relieving himself. Good Lord, even a midnight piss in the privy could summon a saint from the tomb. Heathcliff collapsed backward and put a pillow over his head. He wondered how Adam’s night had been. Adam probably sang. Adam certainly laughed. Did anyone try to kiss him? Did he let them? Kiss Adam. He tried to erase the image of Adam standing there, sleepily answering the call of nature and it made him think of other callings. No . . . no, don’t. Adam, damn you. 

Heathcliff’s coverlet was stifling so he threw it to the side. He pinched shut his eyes in an attempt to will himself to sleep. It was no use. His dressing gown was sticking to his thighs. He tugged at the fabric but it clung to his skin . . . exquisitely. No . . . no, please. Who was he talking to? He clutched his pillow again, but this dissonant call could not be muted. His pulse pounded in his ears as he worked the gown up to his hips. He turned his face away as if he were ashamed to witness such base behavior in himself. He caressed his stomach then his thighs. His legs flexed up and splayed. AH! He gripped himself too hard at first like jerking the reins of a petulant colt, but even a beast must be coaxed to submission, eventually . . . tenderly. He drew a ragged breath and pushed on . . . and pulled and pulled and again. That’s right, like that . . . dear God he’d forgotten how good. Heathcliff moannnnnned. He wriggled beneath his own hands, trying to break free from something he couldn’t name until his gown was bunched under his arms, partially over his face. He couldn’t breathe. Fuuuhhhhckk!

“Shhhhh.” The sound came from the doorway. Heathcliff startled then yanked the garment from his head. His manhood still swelled at his belly and slipped in the smear. The space before him was the bottom of a lake fathoms beyond light’s reach. Heathcliff discerned the slightest of motions like a ripple in the air. 

“Adam?” His voice sounded desperate even to himself.

“Shhhhh. Ah . . .” The figure made no attempt to gain ground but leant on the threshold instead. Adam groaned deep in this throat over the snick, snick, snick of wet friction.

Heathcliff was both horrified and delirious at once. Like cornered prey that turns to fight, Heathcliff refused to cower. He palmed his ever thickening member and rose to his knees in defiance. If going the distance could make him save face, then by damned he would finish this. Heathcliff pumped his fist and panted with raw power.

The effect was severe and immediate. Adam couldn’t see Heathcliff not completely, but the waves of energy that radiated from his bed drowned Adam in desire. Adam’s knees buckled beneath him as he crumpled into a heap on the floor. He arched his back and his buttocks stuttered over the hardwood. “Goddamn!” Adam gritted his teeth and thunked his head on the wall. Suddenly the entire situation was ridiculous. This was the roughest sex he had ever had and his lover was across the room. Adam’s groin didn’t see the humor and seized his muscles without warning. Adam gasped then whined in an attempt to stifle the torrent roaring through his body. He heard the bed shake then moments later a warm rush of air. Heathcliff was there, standing before him.

“Get up.” Adam stood with difficulty and gathered his pants. Heathcliff opened the door wider. “Get out.” Adam swayed for a moment then left.

In spite of a fitful sleep, Heathcliff rose early. Determined not to hide, he told the cook to set his place in the formal dining room which was unusual for breakfast. The servants would be present off and on carrying out their duties, and that suited Heathcliff just fine. He expected Adam to arrive with his head bowed reverently in shame, earnest in his apology for behaving like such an odious rogue. He was sorely disappointed. 

Adam galloped down the stairs, a song already on his lips. Somehow he seemed taller. He was dressed even more resplendently than usual. He glowed. He flashed his radiant smile at the cook, and she blushed.

“Well, good morning, Mr. Lambert. You’re looking quite fine. I trust you enjoyed your respite.”

“Indeed! I slept like a babe, I assure you.”

She had already prepared his toast and put the plate before him. She poured his tea and asked if she could tempt him with something more. Adam usually declined a full meal but not today.

“Something hearty, I think. I have meetings later.”

“Eggs?”

“And tomatoes!”

“Right away.”

Heathcliff had been staring at a journal without actually reading it. He watched Adam spoon jam onto his toast and take a huge bite. He had endured enough smugness.

“You’ll bloat from the heat by noonday.”

Adam picked up the cream carafe and placed it delicately on the far side of the table. “Such a sour temper, we wouldn’t want it to curdle.”

“You honestly expect me to hold my temper?”

The arc of Adam’s brow was pure mischief. “Or I could hold it for you if you like?”

Heathcliff turned crimson. A servant passed through with linens and was gone again. Heathcliff kept his voice steady and calm. “You had no right to come into my room.”

“You called out. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

Heathcliff growled. “I don’t care if I screamed bloody murder. You are not to come into my room!”

Adam spoke softer to compensate for Heathcliff’s outburst. “Fine. I apologize.”

“That includes my office as well.”

“Now hold on!”

“And if I’m in the library, then you . . .”

“Pray tell me in what other rooms do you pleasure yourself so I may avoid trespassing the lot.”

Heathcliff was appalled. “Of all the salacious . . .”

“Oh, don’t be so priggish, Heathcliff.” A servant brought Adam’s eggs. “Thank you, it looks delicious.” He winked, and the young girl giggled. 

Heathcliff was spellbound by Adam's appetite. “Well, there it is. You make love with absolutely everything.” He threw his journal on the table and strode into the garden.

“Heathcliff, wait.” Adam didn't get far before Heathcliff turned to confront him.

“Stop following me! By God, will you please give me leave!”

“I can’t.”

“You’re intolerable!”

“Am I? Is what we did last night so despicable?”

“Your complete and utter lack of remorse is astounding.”

“I apologized for entering your room without permission, but I am not sorry for what we did together.”

“We weren’t together.”

“Yes, we were.” Adam took a step toward him and there was nowhere for Heathcliff to go. “And I think you feel terrible this morning because you felt amazing last night.”

Heathcliff pushed Adam away and shook his head. “I don’t want hear anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean . . .” 

“I implore you to stop talking.”

“All right . . . all right.”

“Are you finished?” Adam looked at him exasperated since he wasn’t supposed to answer. “Swear first! Then not another word this day!”

“Done.” Adam turned on his heel and strutted away, his chin held high.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same afternoon, the sky put down its hammer and declared rain with resolute authority. Adam, who (in accordance with his pact) had successfully avoided all collaboration with Heathcliff since breakfast, was foiled by four o’clock tea. He was supposed to see a realtor about a location for his theatre, but the conference was rescheduled because of the weather. Heathcliff preferred the sanctity of his office for his daily refreshments, but a leak in the ceiling called for a bucket and Heathcliff went mad with the drip. They arrived at the drawing room in tandem where a tray was already set for two. Somehow the servants just knew. Adam gave Heathcliff the gentlemanly advantage of choosing a chair as if they were choosing pistols for duel. Heathcliff surrendered to the supernatural supremacy of luck and sat down. 

Adam despised silence. “May I speak?”

“I should have made you take an oath on a Bible.”

“It wouldn’t have done any good.”

“I thought not.”

“Well, don’t compromise yourself out of courtesy. It might be happenstance, but I think we were reunited by a force larger than ourselves for the purpose of this discussion.”

“So if I risk taking tea in the kitchen, it might throw the Earth off its axis.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“Not without mocking myself.” 

Adam clacked his cup and saucer, and Heathcliff cringed at the noise. Adam huffed. “Admit it. You don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then why don’t we get along? We have things in common.”

“Well, if you consider a continent a commonality, then yes.”

“Why must you be so insolent?” 

“I don’t appreciate being manipulated. The Lieutenant Commander has been on this brink before. When he introduced us he stressed that your family are merchants, and maybe someday if I’m a good boy, I shall be one too.”

“It was a compliment. His trust in you must be immense.”

“How generous of you to acknowledge my potential. The reality of the matter is that I am a bookkeeper. The Lieutenant Commander is the one with whom you share a commonality, and he, as you can plainly see, is not my blood.”

“I know that.”

“And neither was the man who raised me, by the way. Do you really want to know me?”

“Yes, I truly do.”

“All right then. My blood father was an Englishman of ill repute who had the unmitigated gall to fail me twice without ever having laid eyes on me.”

“How could he have failed you if . . .?”

“One, he died penniless, and two, he planted me within the womb of a gypsy.” 

“A gypsy? I doubt that – more likely a Spaniard.”

“I’m confident you took account of the villagers’ gossip before you wiped your boots at the door.”

Adam smirked. “I consider myself an expert at exaggeration. I know a tall tale when I hear one.”

“Fine. Since you’re so good at stories, why don’t you tell mine?”

“All right.” He looked Heathcliff over. “There is something remarkably rigid about your carriage which indicates you favor formality over familiarity. That may be the source of your estrangement from your family. No one really knows you for you’ve been utterly disappointed by those who tried to get close. Your lady, I presume, knows you best, but perhaps you’ve chosen purposefully to keep the real you locked within. Perhaps you’re tempted every moment to release the beast inside.” Heathcliff shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. Adam changed direction. “You are equally scrupulous about expenditure. You obviously get by on a meager wage, but that income you happen to manage quite wisely without neglect to your physical appearance. Your clothes like your chambers are austere but fashionable.”

“You stay out of my chambers.”

“I promised.”

“And what do I care what you make of my fashion? You seem to confuse psychology with haberdashery. I thought you were determined to measure my character, not my inseam.”

“I’ve determined the quality of a man’s character is often defined by the subject of his trousers.”

“Ah, the beast within. I had forgotten your flair for hyperbole.”

Adam grinned. “Your fortress appears impenetrable. A lesser man would have cold-cocked me by now.”

“Barring dishonor, a gentleman should never let words provoke him to violence.”

“I doubt you learned that from the Lieutenant Commander. Who raised you?”

“As a very small child, I was taken in by a man who was an acquaintance of my father. He took pity on me, brought me home, and raised me as one of his own children. He is the only person who showed me what compassion really is. He made a comfortable living and owned land. He had a taste for the finer things he couldn’t afford but made purchase anyway. I saw. I learned.”

“You left.”

“He died.”

“But your family?”

“Compassion is not inherited.”

“Neither is greed.”

“Greed?!”

“Aren’t you here to make your fortune? Tell me what could be more fortunate than a family who chose you to be theirs?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, the cruelty I endured.”

“Yes, love can be cruel, but you squandered the wealth you already had for the want of more money.”

“What could you, a man highborn, possibly know of wanting?”

“I have gladly entertained poverty for want of a family to claim me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why am I here? Why would I live at the inn and frequent the pub?”

“How should I know? You can go where ever you like.”

“Except go home.” Adam had accidentally tripped into the depths of Heathcliff’s melancholy, and he hadn’t the will to climb out. “You left your home of your own accord, but I was commanded to go. They were kind enough to grant me my inheritance thanks to my mother – may she rest in peace, but after her untimely death, my presence among them was no longer welcomed.” 

“They rejected you? They must be a passel of imbeciles to reject the likes of you.”

“Remind me to thank you for that when I’m not so despondent.” Adam slumped in his chair. “Those were my father’s words, ‘the likes of you’ when he showed me to the door.”

Heathcliff’s tone softened. “What . . . what did you do to warrant such a . . . dismissal?”

“I spoke the truth, about myself – who I am . . . what I am, what I believe in. I told him his bloodline would stop with me.”

“Adam.” Heathcliff proceeded cautiously. “Men . . . of a certain mind can have families.”

“But, you see, I wouldn’t even if I could. Haven’t you wondered where all the loot comes from?”

Specifically, Adam’s faculty intrigued him, but in general, Heathcliff had thought of little else the past three years but how to acquire a legacy. “Opportunity, hard work, . . . luck.”

“Trade.”

“Yes, that too. Exotic commodities . . . like the Commander said.”

“No, I mean you make a personal trade . . . morals for money.” Heathcliff wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any more. “Your Lieutenant Commander is a respectable businessman with integrity. He has graciously declined several lucrative ventures knowing full well the success of my family’s industry.”

“Silk, citrus, sugar . . .”

“Slaves.”

“What?”

“Never as . . . cargo. Even my father, the ultimate entrepreneur, refused to sink so low, but many of the materials and crops that he ships to markets both here and abroad came from plantation farming.” 

“Adam, the Lieutenant Commander is quite selective. He ships what suits his tastes in furniture, garments, cutlery, but who picked the cotton that made the fabric that made the garment? You see where I’m going with this.”

“That’s not the point. The competition pushes for higher yield. Sheer greed has created an abomination against humanity, and my family has made more profit than most. I don’t want children to pass along my inheritance. Don’t you see, Heathcliff? I have made it my sole intention in life to give every penny away.” 

Now the philanthropy made perfect sense. “So, it’s revenge, then.”

“Atonement.”

“If every man held himself accountable for the sins of his father, we’d all be doomed to the pit of hell fire.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing, Heathcliff – holding yourself accountable for the sins of your father?” 

Heathcliff reluctantly acquiesced. “Perhaps we do have that one thing in common, then.”

“That’s not all. Come to think of it, I know another.”

“I believe one is evidence enough.” 

“Apparently, we have salvation in common as well. The villagers pray for the both of us.”

Heathcliff was appalled. “What? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true.”

“Does our shady performance in this life require redemption, then?”

“I’m more inclined to believe they see in us what we cannot – the good instead of the bad.”

“That’s a shame.”

“You know what they say. Despair is the ultimate sin.”

“So, given our piteous states of mind, how do we avoid the depths of despair?”

“We’ll fulfill our destiny.” 

"Which is?”

“To help each other do better than we can do alone. See, I told you we were supposed to have this conversation. The only explanation for this, this . . .” Adam waved his hand about the room impatiently searching for a word.

“Rain?”

“No.”

“Tea?”

“Whatever it is . . . we were meant to encourage each other along.”

“You mean like a good cuff on the ear ever so often to knock us back into our senses?”

“Perhaps a kind word to the ear every once in awhile would do.” 

Heathcliff deserved that. It stung. “A kind word?”

“You can’t think of any, can you?”

“That isn’t it.” The real question was where to begin. There were too many things about Adam that were worthy of praise. 

“You’re just in the habit of forgoing pleasantries.”

“My skills of observation are untrained.” 

“Then it’s high time you practice.”

“Teach me how. You go first.”

“I already said I liked your pants. Doesn’t that count for anything?” Adam laughed in that lovely, melodious way then Heathcliff new exactly what to say.

“You have a voice like an angel, and it should be shared.” 

Adam took a sip of tea to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “Does that mean . . .?”

“It means, I think the community theatre is a perfectly marvelous idea.”

Adam wanted to ask what changed his mind, but perhaps it would be unfair to make Heathcliff explain. “I think you’re learning kindness very quickly.”

“Well, don’t expect much progress when you leave me to practice on the staff. No doubt the theatre will require your frequent absences.”

Was that it? Was that the reason Heathcliff was opposed to Adam’s project? “I thought you wanted me to busy myself elsewhere.”

“I know I made you promise this morning to stay out of my way, but perhaps your presence is not as disagreeable as I let on.”

“You had every right to be disagreeable. I’ve made a nuisance of myself.”

“Not really.”

“But I have. You didn’t ask for a boarder. I should have respected your privacy.”

“When the Commander offered you occupancy, I could have offered a bit of fellowship in the bargain.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Yes, Heathcliff. Don’t you understand? I can be myself with you. I seek your company because you’re the only person I know in the world who doesn’t abhor what I am.”

“Adam.” Heathcliff paused for a moment to contemplate how the shunning of such an astonishing man was an incredible disservice to civilization. “You’re the only person I know in the world who seeks my company at all.”

Adam smiled. “Am I still banished from the library?

“I never banished you from the library.”

“You did too.”

“I did not, and it was just for today anyway. Adam, this is your home now . . . even more than it is mine. We just have to live . . . together.” 

“How about a new oath?”

“The Bible’s in the library.”

“I’ll take your word as your bond.” Adam put out his hand and Heathcliff held it.

“What are the terms?”

“You learn how to say nice things, and I’ll learn how to knock first.”

“It’s a deal.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Heathcliff took a ride in the country that led them a million miles from home.

It was awkward, this business of kindness and courtesy, but Adam and Heathcliff made do by overcompensating. They swiftly found humor in what they were trying to accomplish. Why was it so challenging to reach an amicable cohabitation? Adam started knocking on every door even the ones that were always open, the kitchen and the dining room which befuddled the staff to no end. Heatcliff retaliated by complimenting Adam on just about everything, especially his physical appearance until he was incredibly self-conscious under the inspection. They practiced patience, unsuccessfully but with optimism for improvement. With the progression of days came the augmentation of awareness . . . of each other. At this point, Adam still intended to move on before winter set in, but surely he and Heathcliff would know long before that if their future triumphs were truly reliant on one another. Adam knew one thing for certain. Heathcliff would refuse an endowment whether it was intended as a gift or an investment. Maybe Adam could help him another way that had nothing to do with finance. That was territory where Adam lacked confidence. In spite of Adam’s feelings about greed, he couldn’t deny that money made things easier, especially when he was willing to give it away.

Adam moved forward on his theatre project. He determined that if he could make the initial purchase and employ a staff, the running of the enterprise would cease to require his management in a relatively short time. That would free Adam to depart at his leisure with the changing of the season. Even though, he sought to become one beholden to none, Adam censured anyone so discourteous to leave flotsam in his wake. Adam would finish what he started if only he could actually break ground.

Adam hoped a conversation with Heathcliff would inspire him or at the very least distract him from this self-directed stalemate. He knocked tentatively on the door of Heathcliff’s office and was cordially bid admittance. The spectacles Heathcliff wore when he was working made him look younger, not older, and Adam was reminded of his school days. His education at university was much more thorough outside the classroom. He distinctly remembered boys in glasses. Adam waited for Heathcliff to take an opportunity to give him his attention. 

“So, what can I do for you, Adam?”

“Did you mean what you said about the theatre? About it being a perfectly marvelous idea?”

“Yes, I meant it.”

“You don’t deny you made a worthy argument against it initially.”

Heathcliff shrugged. “I underestimated the scope of your aim. Perseverance eliminates many obstacles to which a lesser man would surrender.” 

“But you were right, though. I don’t have the foggiest notion what I’m doing.” Adam sighed. “I can’t seem to get started. I’ve seen several properties, but none of them are agreeable . . . too small, too remote. I don’t know where else to turn.” 

Heathcliff got a quizzical look on his face and held up his index finger. “Just a moment.” He opened his ledger again and turned several pages back. He closed it and went to his cabinet.

Adam got up. “This is a bad time.”

“Don’t be absurd. Sit down. I’m looking for something.”

Adam didn’t realize the bustle was for him, and he smiled. 

“Here it is! I’ll be damned.”

“What is it?”

“I had put it out of my mind, I guess.”

“What?”

Heathcliff came from around the side of his desk to sit beside Adam. “There was a family nearby who gave me shelter when I first arrived. The poor woman had lost her husband the winter before, and he left her with many debts. Their children were too small for labor. I made myself useful as a handyman in order to earn my food and lodging, but I hadn’t the inclination to be a farmer . . . or a father, as it were.”

“I see.” 

“She had cousins in the Americas but no means to acquire transport. That’s how I met the Lieutenant Commander, the only seaman the innkeeper knew.” 

“Brilliant.”

“He took them safely to port and paid their fare in exchange for the farm itself. It was worth practically nothing after the animals were sold, but . . . well, that’s the Commander, and I was persistent. I imagine he saw something in me. He put me in charge of settling her accounts and selling the farm. He proposed to keep me under employment until I found a buyer, but I’m certain he has long sense forgotten about it. I had.” 

“A farm.”

“A farm with a barn.”

“A barn?”

“Along with two other outbuildings and the house, of course . . . all in disrepair, but it might be just what you’re looking for.”

The sparkle in Heathcliff’s eyes energized Adam anew. “Would you take me there?”

“Well, certainly.”

“Would you be willing to help me with the acquisition of the property and whatever construction costs would be needed to repair it, make it functional?”

“You mean keeping accounts?” 

“Yes, precisely! But, I’ll also need you for maintenance once the theatre is running – service costs, ticket sales, and probably a dozen other things I haven’t considered.” Adam was up on his feet, his ingenuity needed exercise.

“Adam, I want to help you. I do. But, how would I be able to accomplish all that and fulfill my commitment to the Lieutenant Commander?”

“Didn’t he tell you to sell it?”

“Yes, and be done with it, not done with him. He relies on me.”

“You’ll need an assistant, then. We’ll post advertisements. I’ll hire an entire staff before the grand opening.”

“This is quite an undertaking.” The idea that Adam wanted him in a business sense was making Heathcliff’s head spin. If this was what real pride felt like, he hoped that one couldn’t die from the exhilaration of it. 

“I have complete faith that you are the one for the job. It’s going to be a lot of hard work initially, but I promise it will be worth your while. I shall pay you.”

Heathcliff knew he might regret it, but he simply could not reject Adam’s offer. “Well, I suppose, I could charge you the same hourly rate as the Lieutenant Commander pays me.”

“Double it. I’ll open an account for you from which to write checks. It’ll be a ground floor investment for expenses until it turns a profit. If it fails, I will cut the losses, myself.”

“I don’t think you’re going to fail, Adam.”

Adam smiled at him. “I don’t think we will either. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The innkeeper had a selection of riding horses. Adam chose two and had them sent to the Orland House. He and Heathcliff would ride to the aforementioned farm, the future location of his theatre. His expectations were high, but sometimes Adam suffered the devil in the details.

Heathcliff was perplexed. “You brought horses.”

Adam looked at Heathcliff’s business attire. “I thought we should ride, but perhaps a carriage would have been more appropriate.”

“No, I can ride, but I sold my field boots when I moved to town.”

Adam was guiding him back to the house. “I have another pair. They’re quite stylish. You’ll look dashing in them.”

When Heathcliff had changed into more casual clothing, Adam presented the boots. “Adam, thank you, but let me wear those shabby ones instead.”

Adam looked at his feet. “These aren’t shabby, just seasoned. Besides, I’ll warrant you’re a half size smaller, and the fancy ones pinch my toes. I’m going to let you borrow them indefinitely.”

Heathcliff caught his reflection in the polished brass buckles. “Adam, I couldn’t.”

“I beg of you, break them in for me, then! We’ll be riding out there now and again. Must we repeat this demonstration over and over?”

“All right, then. I’ll wear your boots.”

Adam’s boots fit Heathcliff very well, and they made him feel like the man he intended to be in his former life. Likewise, riding beside Adam made Heathcliff feel like the man he dared aspire to become, someday. It was simply a glorious morning. In the sun, Adam’s hair wasn’t as dark as it appeared indoors. It was a prism of brown and gold and red . . . yes, red. Adam had a bit of ginger in him. That discovery delighted Heathcliff, making Adam seem nearer to himself, just a man. Heathcliff was admiring the countryside and realized he had seen it last in midwinter. It was much lovelier now and less difficult. It reminded Heathcliff of his home, wistfully. 

Adam noticed something peaceful about Heathcliff. He was relaxed in his saddle, a proficient rider. The fresh air seemed to revive him from a profound slumber. Heathcliff’s face, turned toward the sun disclosed an element of innocence that stirred Adam’s heart. When he spoke he brought Heathcliff back from a daydream. “I haven’t taken a ride in the country for a very long time.”

“Nor have I. It’s not much further.”

“The path is firm and wide, but I wonder if it’s too far for guests without transport of their own. We will lose the patronage of simpler folks who would like to attend on foot.”

Heathcliff beamed. “I thought of that. What would you think of a taxi service via carriage or wagon in fair weather? We could charge a meager sum, perhaps a farthing. The journey out and back could be part of the enjoyment of the evening . . . sunsets and star-gazing.”

“Heathcliff, that is an absolutely brilliant idea!”

“Wait until you see the grounds! I was thinking that families could have picnics. There’s a privy, of course, but we could have a larger facility installed perhaps in the stables. And about the barn itself, I thought the stalls for the dairy cows would make discreet dressing rooms for the actors in their costumes, and . . .”

Adam had stopped riding. His horse was softly pawing the ground. Heathcliff pulled around. 

“What’s the matter?”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought since yesterday.”

“I’ve thought of nothing else since yesterday. All of the memories of the place came flooding back to me. The work I did on this farm was important and appreciated. I labored the land myself in small ways perhaps, but I planted a vegetable garden. I tended the animals. I felt like I was part of something that mattered.”

“It was an honorable thing you did.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“They were another man’s family, Heathcliff. You did all you could.”

“I didn’t realize a part of this place remained within me until I found the transaction in my ledger. I knew happiness here.”

When they finally passed through a grove of trees and entered a meadow, the barn announced itself with humble grandeur. The grounds needed clearing, but the structures themselves proved sound. When they dismounted, Adam scampered around like a child peering into abandoned rooms simultaneously gauging their dimensions and personalities. Inside the barn, Adam shooed away the pigeons and rushed to the far wall.

“This will be where we build the stage.”

Heathcliff realized he was smiling, and it was such a foreign feeling, he chuckled to himself. Adam stood still and just let the vision of it all sink in. He imagined the decorous sets and cheering audiences. The sun streamed in through the gaps in the wallboards like dozens of heavenly spotlights. Bits of hay and dust floated from the rafters where the pigeons settled again. Adam had never looked so content.

“This is perfect, Heathcliff.”

“I’m truly glad.”

They continued to tour the grounds until the sun was high and hot. Neither of them wanted to return to the place he had been before. It had less to do with the current geography than it did with their states of mind. On a whim they removed their sporting coats and took off their boots to cool their feet in the brook. They spoke as freely as the ripples that circled their ankles.

“With a father as ambitious in commerce as yours, how did you get involved in the dramatic arts?”

“When I was thirteen, I was sent to school. My cousin had gone two years before me, and another followed a year after, but I felt alone there until I was old enough to join some of the other boys in their thespian society.”

“Thespian society?”

“Yes, it was an official association, nationally affiliated which makes the fact that we were somewhat rowdy all the more delicious. We executed (an apt word for it) the plays of Shakespeare and the Greeks for the students and faculty, but for our own amusements we performed musicals and comedies much more vaudeville in nature. I learned who I was, inside. I met other boys like me and was no longer ashamed. It was a time of great discovery in so many ways, but I lacked fidelity. With relationships I was undisciplined, to put it mildly. With authority, I knew neither caution nor diplomacy. I was invincible, but not anonymous as it were.”

“What do you mean?”

“My elder cousin paid me no mind. He graduated and become a military man, but the younger was a snooper. We were less than a year apart. It made us competitive. He relished reporting home, accounts of my conduct. By the time I confronted my father, he knew already about my preferences. It was merely the unmitigated gall of me forcing him to acknowledge it that got me cast out forever.” 

“You should be proud of yourself, Adam. I believe there are moments in a man’s life when the last thing he should do is compromise.”

“I’m wary of Pride. She has an ugly sister, Arrogance. You can’t entertain one without inviting the other to come along. I suppose, since my expulsion, I’ve led a more purposeful life, as wayward as it may seem.”

“Your self-regard is too punishing. You are no more misguided than I am.” 

“You’ve let me prattle on and on about myself. I’d rather talk about you. What do you know of the dramatic arts?”

“Barely anything beyond the traveling carnivals that came to our neighborhood when I was a boy. There were puppets, and dancers, and masters at sleight of hand. It was all very theatrical. Our imaginations used to get the better of us. Cathy and I would terrify the neighbor’s children on purpose.”

“Cathy?”

Heathcliff saw such fondness in Adam’s eyes it seemed to him all right to share her. “Yes. Cathy. You see our father – Cathy’s by blood, mine by charity was often away with business. His wife barely knew me before she died, but she favored her own son rather severely. We children grew up wild – as careless as the wind on the moor and twice as troubled. In fact we were behaving monstrously when Cathy was hurt. She fell over a fence and suffered a cruel bite by the neighbor’s dog.”

“Not rabid was it?”

“Oh no, nothing like that, but she needed time to recover. Unfortunately, I never did recover from the events of that night.”

“What happened?”

“During her extended convalescence with our neighbors who were much more affluent than we were . . . well, than I was . . . Cathy became a young lady. It was inevitable. She couldn’t remain my playmate when we grew up. I only dreamed that one day, she would look on me with a different smile, and I would know she belonged to me forever.”

“You must return to her, Heathcliff. Why must you squander your youth attempting to be something you’re not? Look at this farm and remember the family who lived here. That good woman and her husband were parted by death as fate would have it, but their lives were idyllic in this perfectly beautiful pasture more regal in its purity than any castle. The money doesn’t matter, Heathcliff!”

“It does.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“Adam. It does matter. Cathy chose another.”

“But, why? What do you mean, chose?”

“You know perfectly well that ladies do not marry orphaned gypsy boys.”

“Surely she doesn’t feel that way in her heart.”

“Regardless of one’s heart, it isn’t appropriate customarily speaking.” 

“I wouldn’t call buggering other men a societal standard either, but I do it anyway.

“Oh, Adam . . . please.”

Adam threw a few rocks into the deeper pool of the brook to vent his aggravation. “Forgive me. I’m just so frustrated. I don’t mean to be ugly.”

“You’re not ugly.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t look too closely. Underneath the handsome clothes, . . .”

“You’d be handsome without them.”

Adam grinned. “I’d be handsome without any clothes?”

Heathcliff splashed him. “You know very well what I meant.”

Adam laughed and splashed him back. They continued to get the better of one another until they were soaked to the bone and breathless. “Now you’ve done it.” They stripped to their under drawers and stretched out on the grass to dry. “This was a trick.”

“You're delusional.”

They were both careful to avert their eyes admiring the drifting clouds instead. They dozed lazily in the stillness. 

“Heathcliff?” 

“Hmm?”

“Forgive me again if I’m intruding, but . . .”

When Adam didn’t continue, Heathcliff looked over. Adam was studying him. “Go on.”

“Did Cathy marry?”

“She’s engaged. When I left, she was only engaged.”

“What will you do if you’re too late?”

“Even if I become a gentleman, I shall probably never have her, but if there is even a glimmer of hope, I have to try. She said she loved me.”

“Did she . . . give herself to you?”

“No, it was nothing like that. We were hardly more than children when I left. My feelings for her are deeply affectionate but not . . . lustful.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. It isn’t any of my business.” 

“Have you ever been in love, Adam?”

Adam was uncomfortable now that the tables were turned. “I don’t think so. Does that make me sound dim-witted?”

“Not at all. Love is terribly obscure.”

“I was infatuated once or twice, but there was no reciprocation.”

Heathcliff was puzzled. “Didn’t you write the song you sang to me?”

The song played over and over in Adam’s mind, even though they hadn’t spoken of that night until now. “Yes, I wrote it in school. It was the only poem I ever finished.”

“And you mentioned you had relationships, right?”

“Yes, but merely physical, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh.” Heathcliff was suddenly embarrassed that he had made himself seem naïve.

“Do you think less of me now?”

“I haven’t the experience to credit an opinion in such matters. I just thought you must have been in love to sing of longing like that.”

“I think you know very well what it’s like to yearn for something that’s just beyond your reach.”

Heathcliff smiled. “So here we are, once again, two halves of the same coin.”

“With your devotion and my passion together, we’d make a perfect union wouldn’t we?”

“Indeed.”

The conversation stopped. They seemed to be recalling the words they had exchanged. Adam was particularly concerned.

“I hope I haven’t left you with a bad impression of me.”

Heathcliff rose up on his elbow to address Adam more directly. “Why would you say that?”

Adam rolled onto his side. “At school, I was young and impetuous, but I want you to know that since that time, I have been more discriminating. It would trouble me a great deal if I lost your respect for having a measurable number of lovers.”

Heathcliff smiled which was not at all the reaction Adam expected. “Funny. I was afraid I’d lose yours for having none.”

“None? Ever?”

“Never.” Heathcliff looked away.

“Not even a kiss?”

“Not the kind you mean.”

“I thought maybe you and the farmer’s widow were intimate.”

Heathcliff shook his head. “There were opportunities. I felt nothing but pity for her. Adam, we’ve stumbled upon my most deeply kept secret of all.”

“It’s safe with me.” Adam waited, but Heathcliff said nothing more. “Please tell me.”

Heathcliff thought it was self-evident. “I don’t feel anything.” 

Adam looked at him warily. “There’s passion inside you. I’ve seen it, if you remember.”

Heathcliff became defensive. “I mean, with another person. My needs are strictly biological. I have no idea what the fuss is all about. I’ve gotten along fine without it. It is probably to my benefit not to be burdened by such provocations.”

“Let me kiss you.” Heathcliff choked on all the words that tried to escape his shattered sensibilities, but Adam ignored his protests. “If you let me kiss you, then you’ll know for sure.”

“What makes you think, you of all people could awaken my . . .” Heathcliff had no words.

Adam was charmed by Heathcliff’s sudden perplexity. “Your beast within?”

“What a preposterous thing to say?”

“No one is here. No one will see. No one will know.”

“I’ll know. I’d never forgive myself.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? If you don’t like it, then you were right all along, and you can go about your merry way. If you do like it, then how rewarding it would be to know you have that in your future to look forward to.”

“What if it changes things between us?”

“Heathcliff, we’ve changed so much already. Never a day passes that is the same as the one before.” Heathcliff had no rebuttal for that. “Let me kiss you.”

“I don’t know how. I won’t be any good at it.”

“It’s easy. Just close your eyes. I’ll do the rest.” 

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then tell me no and I won’t.” Adam waited, but Heathcliff said nothing. “Do you trust me?” Heathcliff nodded. “Then lie back and close your eyes.”

Heathcliff reluctantly obeyed. With Heathcliff’s eyes closed, Adam could look upon him with the depth of affection he’d hidden for weeks now. He wondered what he’d gotten himself into. What if he fell in love? What if he already had? Adam pressed his lips softly to Heathcliff’s, but Heathcliff gasped as if he’d been stung.

Heathcliff opened his eyes and saw Adam gazing down at him. He touched Adam’s lips with is fingertips. “Try again.” 

Their kiss was simple and chaste, a shallow inhale with gentle pressure and release. It’s all Heathcliff had ever known. Adam wasn’t finished. He cradled Heathcliff’s head in his palm. The warmth and wetness of Adam’s mouth was drawing all the strength from his body. Heathcliff opened up for him, savoring the dizzy intoxication of surrender. When Adam seemed almost to stop, Heathcliff wrapped his hand behind Adam’s neck and pulled him forward. Adam moaned and gave Heathcliff most all of his tongue. Heathcliff shuddered beneath him. Adam didn’t know exactly when he had gathered Heathcliff into his arms. They fit so perfectly, stomach to stomach and legs intertwined. Their clothes were scattered all about, and they were lying there practically naked on the grass. This was no longer just a kiss. Adam suddenly twisted free and collapsed on his back. He took great breaths as if he’d nearly drowned but was made safe ashore once again. He returned to the brook and refreshed himself. Heathcliff followed soon after. They remained silent even as they were dressing.

Adam took another look around. “I’m going to buy it.” 

“I’ll begin the acquisition immediately.”

They mounted their horses and rode in silence half way back. 

“Heathcliff? Don’t keep me in suspense. What’s your decree?”

“I think it’s a wise purchase. The Lieutenant Commander’s asking price is a bargain, and it seems to suit your needs.”

“I was talking about your needs. I must know. Have I left you delirious with relief or completely devastated?”

“Both at once . . . so much I could die.”

“Well, that, my sweet friend, is what the fuss is about.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam had many lessons to teach Heathcliff. The first one was, it's never too late to re-define a dream.

Adam had time to think, which was a perfectly terrible thing to do under the circumstances. Heathcliff also seemed lost in thought, but at least he wasn’t angry. The fact that Heathcliff was taking in stride their complete abandonment of good sense, gave Adam confidence that he wouldn’t be immediately evicted the very moment of their return.

They had stayed much longer on the farm than they meant to. Nothing that happened beside the brook had been intended on Adam’s part, least of all the consequential saturation of their clothing. Their garments were still damp and uncomfortable for the ride back. They stopped at the inn in order to return the horses, deciding to call for a carriage or simply walk home. The innkeeper wouldn’t hear of it.

“Master Lambert, it’s so good to . . . good heavens you’ve been put away wet!” When he actually looked hard at them, he scratched his head. “Boys and shenanigans like salt and pepper. You both need dry clothes and a hot meal. You’ll be staying for supper.”

‘Welcome, Heathcliff.”

“Hello, again. How do you do?”

The innkeeper’s wife appeared. “Master Lambert, what happened?! You fall off your horse into the river?”

By now they had attracted a gathering of onlookers. Adam decided to entertain. “The woods are haunted, I tell you! I saw a sprite and jumped in on purpose to save myself from a ghastly possession.”

“And him an educated man!” Everyone laughed. “Could use a little common sense! Right, Mr. Heathcliff?”

The wife put in her opinion. “What common sense? Heathcliff looks like he jumped in right after?”

Heathcliff played along. “Indeed. If I hadn’t been there, he’d have surely drowned.”

That made them laugh even harder, Adam especially. They were taken to a room and provided simple attire. They were instructed to leave their own clothes for the laundry knowing full well that Master Lambert would reimburse them and tip profusely for their troubles. Heathcliff didn’t understand.

“Adam, shouldn’t we go home? We were late with their horses and showed up, hardly presentable. Haven’t we taken advantage of their good natures enough?”

“To stay for supper is a gesture of good will. You get back what you give away, Heathcliff. It makes them proud for us to be indebted.”

In linen and cambric, Adam looked years younger to Heathcliff. His windblown hair framed his face in soft waves. He caught Heathcliff staring.

“Shall I pass for peasantry?”

Heathcliff was too affected to make a compliment sound casual. “You look quite handsome, as always.” Heathcliff fumbled with his borrowed shirt which was two sizes too big.

Adam stepped forward and began buttoning it for him. “The sun has done you a favor. You’re the very color of vitality.” Adam’s knuckles brushed Heathcliff’s chest as he worked. He stopped at the collar and tapped Heathcliff’s chin. “I think between the two of us, you’re the more handsome.” 

Heathcliff didn’t bother arguing with him. After years of suppressing his proclivity for contemplation, Heathcliff opened his mind. First came mirth at the irony, that the most beautiful man he had ever seen just told him HE was the handsome one. Next came confusion when he asked himself why he was considering men at comparative levels of physical attraction. Confusion led to panic when Heathcliff failed to make a clear picture from memory of the woman he thought he loved. He side-stepped denial and finally succumbed to a crushing affection for this man who stood before him, this man who trusted enough in the sanctity of their bond to take such a perilous turn toward the unknown. Heathcliff hoped above all things that he had the fortitude not to make Adam regret it.

They enjoyed a hearty supper and light company. The innkeeper and his wife continued to make jokes at Adam’s expense, but he was a good sport. Heathcliff could see that they adored him. Maybe he did too. Heathcliff wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings now that he knew for certain he had them, feelings . . . passion. How would he continue in an ordinary world when he could fathom nothing but the breadth of Adam’s chest and the tenderness of his touch? The distance between them seated at opposite ends of the table was suddenly excruciating. 

As the evening wore on, Adam noticed Heathcliff’s eyes on him. He recognized that far-off distraction. Adam considered his days of sexual awakening a confounding slurry of nostalgia and mortification. The sheer indignity of perpetual arousal was enough to leave a young man hapless, vulnerable. He chastised himself for being so careless. To leave Heathcliff all alone with his thoughts tonight would be a grievous error. Adam owed him an explanation, perhaps a little guidance once they were free from the observation of their hosts.

It was a fair night, and even though they were exhausted, Adam determined a long walk home was in order. Heathcliff didn’t oppose the suggestion. He seemed unable to resist anything Adam offered which was in itself disconcerting. What happened to the stony impertinence of his habitually quarrelsome companion? 

In workman’s clothes, the two men made their way unnoticed. Heathcliff knew this town, and on any given evening the people would be bustling with activity as if they were chasing the setting sun like a ball into the street. He would have welcomed that happy clamor over the drone of his own thoughts. Now that twilight was upon them, the entire populace seemed hushed in reverence for Heathcliff’s slow, deliberate march toward insanity. Heathcliff lamented the fact that if he were truly delusional he wouldn’t be aware of it. He was haphazardly searching for some other excuse for this profound disorder, when they arrived on the doorstep of their destination.

Adam stood in the way. “Before we go inside, please talk to me. I know you must have questions.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That’s a relief. I was afraid you’d never speak to me again.”

With Adam smiling like that, Heathcliff didn’t know how long his reason would hold. He got right to the point. “How did you know I would allow you to take such liberties?”

“I didn’t. It was a gamble.”

“Do you always put yourself at the mercy of providence?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Has anyone in his right mind ever told you, no?”

“On what subject?”

“ANY subject!”

“Does my father count?”

“Was he in his right mind?”

“Given the spittle frothing at the corner of his mouth, I doubt it. But hold on, you have! You rather stubbornly refused my attempt to gift you the very boots on your feet.”

“No good. I wasn’t in my right mind, either. I intend to keep them after all.”

“I would never have allowed you to return them anyway. They complement your calves too well.”

“About that, why must you insist I’m handsome?”

“It isn’t flattery, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hardly the conventional beauty am I? Admit it.”

“Your intelligence, your sensitivity . . . they show on your face. That is so much more . . .”

“Yes, of course, I understand.”

Adam looked skyward in exasperation then directly into Heathcliff’s expectant eyes. “Listen to me. I am captivated by the ambiguity of your features. I could spend a lifetime examining the complexity of your brows alone. When I attempt to interpret your expressions, you astonish me in less than an hour with a dozen more I’ve never seen before. The length of your lashes is surpassed only by the length of your legs. My day is not properly begun until I hear you gallop down the stairs of a morning. Need I go on?”

Heathcliff had been called dark and menacing but not captivating. He had been deemed peculiar and disagreeable but not astonishing. Adam took his hand. “I would have never looked for you high and low into the street and across town to this house unless I liked what I saw that night.” 

“Will you ever sing to me again?”

“You have but to ask.”

“Will you ever kiss me again?”

“I certainly hope so.”

Adam leaned toward him just as the butler, John, jerked open the front door. Adam startled. He’d only been face to face with the butler a couple times before. The man tended to Heathcliff more than Adam to whom he assigned other members of the waiting staff. John looked perturbed, but he always did in Adam’s opinion. 

“Where have you been, Mr. Heathcliff?”

“We sent word we were having supper at the inn.”

“Yes, but the messenger said you both had taken a spill and nearly drowned.”

“Nonsense. He obviously exaggerated the danger for his own enjoyment.”

“But your clothes?”

Adam interjected. “Will be delivered tomorrow, good as new. Please assign me the bill directly.”

Heathcliff didn’t want to explain how their adventure had evolved. He pushed past him. “Don’t trouble yourself any further about it, John. I’ll be turning in shortly. But first, my own clothes. Mr. Lambert and I will have a brandy in the library.”

“Yes, of course. Right away.” John made off to ready Heathcliff’s room and lay out clean clothes.

Adam joined Heatcliff for brandy. They each chose reading material that failed to motivate conversation. The magic that happened between them that day apparently hadn’t the power to transform them once they had returned to their real life environs at the Orland House.

Adam retired to his own chamber wondering if Heathcliff would be successful tomorrow when he tried denying the previous day had happened at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam came awake and heard a noise in the hall. He put on a robe and opened his door. John was lurking there with a candle. “John?”

The butler jumped. “Good heavens . . . don’t do that.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Go back to bed. Heathcliff is having a nightmare. I’ll see to it.”

Adam recalled what happened the last time he barged in thinking Heathcliff was having a nightmare. “Whoa, wait! Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” John crept in and Adam followed. They stood at his bedside for a moment watching Heathcliff flinch and whine in the candlelight. “He’s had nightmares periodically ever since his arrival but not for a long while, now . . . not since you took residence, I’d say.”

Heathcliff stirred and mumbled. Adam wanted to do something. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, it’ll be over soon. He frets then calls out the name Cathy, and then it’s over.” John put his fingers to his lips as if he’d cursed. “He doesn’t know that I know. Even when he wakes he has no memory of it.”

“I understand. I won’t say a word.” Adam appreciated John’s protective nature.

Heathcliff’s murmurs escalated in volume and intensity. “Here he goes, any moment now.”

“ADAM!” Heathcliff sat bolt upright. Adam didn’t hesitate a second to go to him. He sat on the edge of the bed and clasped Heathcliff’s hands. 

“Here, right here.”

John cleared his throat. “Perhaps, a glass of water is in order.”

Heathcliff nodded his agreement. John lit the candle by Heathcliff’s bed then departed.

“Adam?” Heathcliff was breathing heavily. 

Adam fussed with the covers trying to give him some air. He saw that Heathcliff was as lost as he had been outside the tavern. He remembered in vivid detail how he rushed after the cloaked man in the dead of night, entreating a name. “Are you all right?”

Heathcliff placed the flat of his hand on Adam’s chest over his heart. “Are you real?” 

The account of their first encounter replayed. Adam squeezed the hand on his heart. “Yes, I’m real.” 

“Why are you here?”

“Please don’t be angry. John let me in, I swear it.”

Heathcliff wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck. “I’m afraid.”

Adam held Heathcliff very close. He was trembling. “I’ve got you. There now, I’ve got you. You had a nightmare, really, this time.”

“It was bloody awful.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Heathcliff pulled away slightly but gripped Adam’s shoulders for courage. “I was on the moor with Cathy. There was a terrible storm, and we were trying to hurry. Her hand slipped out of mine. I couldn’t reach her.” There were tears in Heathcliff’s eyes.

“Did she fall?”

“Yes, but you caught her.” 

“I was there?”

Heathcliff tried to shake the vision from his mind. “I couldn’t see her face, Adam. It was only a blur as if she were dissolving into the wind.” Heathcliff tried to piece the fragments together. “You tumbled after. It was a river then, not the wind. You disappeared into the torrent. I called and called.”

“You said my name when you woke.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, and see? Here I am safe and sound.” Adam touched Heathcliff’s cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb. “It was only a dream, a very bad dream.” Heathcliff turned his face into Adam’s hand welcoming the warm caress. 

They heard John coming up the stairs. Adam reluctantly took his hand away. 

“This will do. Take small sips, Mr. Heathcliff.”

Heathcliff coughed. “There’s whiskey in this.”

“To calm your nerves, Mr. Heathcliff. You’ve had a fright.” When Heathcliff finished, he gave the cup back to John. “Thank you. That will be all.”

“I brought you a fresh gown. Shall I help you into it?”

“No, thank you. I’ll manage.” Then Heathcliff remembered what Adam had said about the honor of giving. “You’re a good man, John. If you didn’t look after me so well, I’d be lost.”

John nodded graciously. He gave Adam a long look from head to foot then left. Heathcliff waited until the butler had made his way back to his quarters then he sighed tremulously letting out the remainder of his tension.

“Here, let’s have it.” Adam took the damp gown in his hands and prompted Heathcliff to raise his arms. Adam tossed it aside then pulled the fresh one over Heathcliff’s head. “Better?”

“Better.” Adam stood up and fluffed Heathclifff’s pillows. “Will you close the door?” 

“Yes, of course.” Adam turned to say good night before he pulled it to. 

“No, don’t leave . . . just shut the door and come back.” The door clicked softly, but Adam stood still.

“Heathcliff?” Adam’s voice was only a whisper.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone. The house is full of people who care for you very much.”

“I want you to stay . . . only you.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“But you want to.” Heathcliff reached for him.

Adam returned to his place at Heathcliff’s side. “Why must you torment me so?”

“Is it agony to be with me?”

“I mustn’t take advantage. You gave me your trust.”

“I want to give you more than my trust.” Heathcliff took Adam’s hand. He put it to his face again and planted a kiss into his palm.

Adam sat in resignation. “Heathcliff . . .”

“Shall I close my eyes?”

Adam embraced him. “My dear, dear sweet friend. These feelings are all so new for you. You must believe me when I tell you that kissing in a meadow is not the same as lying with a man in his bed.”

Heathcliff had turned his face into Adam’s neck and breathed deeply of him. He brushed his lips up the side of Adam’s throat. “Show me.”

Adam let Heathcliff have his lips. There was a definite shift in the dynamic of their communication. Heathcliff was acting on instinct alone . . . and he wanted . . . more . . . of Adam. He tangled his fingers into Adam’s hair and pulled back his head. Heathcliff mouthed Adam’s neck. He could feel the moan in his throat. Heathcliff was learning very quickly that the aspect of physical pleasure was magnified indefinitely by reciprocation, but he lacked experience to take the lead. He sampled Adam’s ear. “Lay me down.”

Heathcliff made room for Adam on the mattress, but Adam was mostly above him . . . upon him. The weight of the man gave Heathcliff a new dimension of desire. He could feel now exactly how much Adam wanted him. 

Adam had the leverage to control his movements and Heathcliff’s which is what he was used to in a partner. Adam had never been with a lover who was equally assertive. His lovers were smaller than himself and easily manipulated. As willing as they were to succumb to Adam’s lead, Adam never knew exactly what they wanted. Heathcliff was much, much bolder.

Adam’s knee nestled snugly between Heathcliff’s thighs. As they kissed even more deeply than before, Heathcliff shifted and began rubbing his erection against Adam’s skin. 

Adam stopped kissing and rested his hand on Heathcliff’s hip. Heathcliff stopped moving. He looked at Adam then looked away fearing he’d taken too much liberty.

“Heathcliff, look at me.” They were nose to nose. Adam slipped his hand under Heathcliff’s gown and gently palmed his balls. Heathcliff gasped and shuddered. He pinched shut his eyes. “Heathcliff, I said look at me.” Heathcliff obeyed. Adam caressed him softly then stroked his cock more firmly. Heathcliff grabbed Adam’s wrist. “Too hard?” Heathcliff nodded. Adam started again. “How’s this?”

“Oh!” Heathcliff bit his lip to quiet himself. He arched his back involuntarily, and began to rock rhythmically into Adam’s hand. He gathered enough control to look Adam in the face again. Was it fondness, delight, mischief? 

Adam saw Heathcliff’s expression change. He looked like he was about to catch Adam in an oversight. He did. Heathcliff had been holding onto Adam’s shoulders for dear life, but now he made his way down Adam’s body following the opening of the robe. He rubbed Adam’s stomach which took the mischief from him. Then, he scooped his hand tentatively between Adam’s legs. He knew what he would find there, but he was not prepared for Adam’s reaction.

Adam’s cock jerked at Heathcliff’s touch like an animal unleashed. “Good, lord.” Heathcliff blinked in shock. It was too dark to see down below. Adam had averted his eyes in apprehension. It wasn’t the first time a lover had been intimidated by the glory of his manhood, so much so that he recoiled at further doings. Adam needed to know what it was going to be with Heathcliff. 

Heathcliff whispered. “A cock like that and you had the nerve to tease ME about having a beast within!?” 

Adam laughed a little self-consciously. Then Heathcliff moved closer still. He kissed Adam over and over. He dipped his shoulder for a better angle and took Adam’s member in both hands. 

Adam flinched. “Oh, god!”

Adam let go of Heathcliff in the front and instead squeezed the cheeks of his backside. As he moved, Heathcliff’s gown rolled into a tangle between them. Heathcliff guided Adam’s cock beside his own and pumped them both into the soft cloth. Adam rolled his head side to side in exquisite delirium. How could Heathcliff be learning so quickly how to take him apart?! 

“Heathcliff, have mercy. I’m going to mess your gown.” 

“Destroy it.”

Adam rolled atop Heathcliff and shredded the gown in two. He gathered up his knees. He pumped his body against Heathcliff’s loins trapping the heat between their stomachs. Heathcliff seemed to know instinctively when to cover Adam’s mouth with his own almost, almost silencing his roar. He buried the cry of his own climax in the hollow of Adam’s throat.

Adam lifted off and lay panting on his back. He heard Heathcliff stir then felt him fold into Adam’s open robe. Heathcliff was free of his soiled garment, completely naked against Adam’s side. Adam coiled toward the warmth of him, and they embraced. Adam kissed Heathcliff’s lips, cheeks, his forehead.

“Adam?”

“Hmmm?”

“What do you make of my dream?”

“John said you’d had nightmares before.”

“Yes, quite often actually.”

“He also said they stopped when I arrived.”

“I didn’t realize John was so informative.”

“They were the most words he’d spoken to me all summer.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“He knows about Cathy. You usually shout her name when you wake from the dream. He didn’t mean to divulge that part and begged me not to say anything. He must have kept it a secret a long time because I tried like the devil to pry that detail from the servants to no avail. John is the only one who knows.”

“I suppose he wouldn’t have allowed you into my room unless he believed in our friendship. What did he do when I shouted your name instead?”

“I don’t know. I was looking at you. Have I ever been in your dream before?”

“Not like that . . . not that dream. I know why I would imagine losing Cathy in a storm, figuratively speaking of course. But now . . . I’m losing you.”

Adam held him tighter. “No you’re not. You mustn’t take my disappearance into the river too literally, either. Maybe I didn’t fall. Maybe I jumped on purpose because the river will take me somewhere I need to go and very swiftly, I might add.”

“You mean your theatre project?”

“I think that makes sense, don’t you? Except that it isn’t just MY theatre project anymore. It’s ours.”

Heathcliff snuggled closer. “If I have the dream again, I promise to jump in after you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam knew he was destined to help Heathcliff find his fortune. He didn't realize he could help Heathcliff find himself.

When Adam woke in his own bed, he had no inclination what the day would hold. He dressed and made his way to the kitchen where he learned that Heathcliff was taking his breakfast in the garden. The table on the patio had been set very prettily and adorned with English roses. No matter what came after, Adam was greatly cheered by the gesture.

“Good morning, Mr. Lambert.”

“Good morning, Mr. Heathcliff.”

“Join me, won’t you?”

“I’d be delighted.”

The servant poured their tea and departed. 

Heathcliff leaned closer. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did. And you?”

“Peacefully, at last."

Adam squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.”

“I have much work to do. Yesterday provided me very little toward a measure of accomplishment.”

“You’re not serious.”

Heathcliff smiled. “No, but I do have to put it all to paper.”

Adam cleared his throat. “All? Perhaps some of your accomplishments yesterday were best not recorded in your ledger.”

“True. You bought the land, but you weren’t paying me for the rest.”

“I’ve never paid for that. The very idea. I don’t know what to make of you, Heathcliff.”

“Now who’s being priggish? I may be inexperienced, but I’m no innocent.”

“How? I don’t mean to be indelicate, but you told me you had never . . . and yet, last night you were . . . very satisfactory.”

“Adam, my lovers have been Loneliness and Melancholy. For years now, I’ve been a recluse, by choice, but the Lieutenant Commander is somewhat worldly and has assembled a rather impressive library during his travels. He brings back volumes and volumes about ancient Greece, mythology, art history, Shakespeare, Chaucer, astronomy. I educate myself out of curiosity.”

“I suppose curiosity is a better motivator than a pocketbook when it comes to educational assets.”

“Just so, some gains defy an attainable figure and hold a value beyond assessment.”

Adam teased him. “The desire for exotic commodities?”

Heathcliff looked shamelessly at Adam’s lap. “More like natural resources.”

The servant returned with toast and jam, soft-boiled eggs and a plate of cheeses.

“Ah, speaking of resources!” The servant girl curtsied and left. “In all seriousness, I must write a letter at once to a former schoolmate of mine.”

“May I inquire why?”

“He’s a reliable contact who owes me a favor. Unless our hamlet is hiding a plethora of Hamlets, we will be in need of stage performers.”

“We are weeks away from production, Adam.”

“I intend for there to be entertainment before the paint is dry.”

“Why such urgency?” Adam busied himself cracking an egg. “You still plan to be on your way come winter, don’t you?”

“Making plans has always been an illusory vexation for me. I merely concede that any potential state of affairs could arise which might oblige me to seek a new situation.”

Heathcliff was visibly disappointed. “I thought you would abandon your wanderlust under the circumstances.”

“Heathcliff, I’ve been made to leave any home I’ve ever had. Don’t criticize me for an accidental adventurer.”

“The Lieutenant Commander would hardly cast you out of his home.”

“His home . . . his. I think I shall never know true happiness until I have made a home of my own.” 

“I understand. I do. It was quite a blow when my benefactor passed away leaving me only the security of a new benefactor, his true son. When I left, I felt no more than a tenant, myself. I’ve become too comfortable here at the Orland House. I’d grown complacent until recently.”

“There are other worlds out there. By all means, jump into the river after me.” 

Heathcliff brightened. “We could begin construction before the end of next week, but the sale belongs to the Lieutenant Commander. I will need your investment for builders and materials.”

“I shall make the transfer today.” Adam ate a few bites before he continued. “Heathcliff?”

“Hmm?”

“I know how you feel about parties, but if you were willing to allow me to host a small gathering of local businessmen here at the Orland House, we could acquire sponsorship that is essential to the success of any venture. My mission is to share the arts, but I must admit with vast humility that capitalism has polluted my blood to some degree. I want the theatre to make money, and it won’t via tickets and moonlit carriage rides alone.”

“And, I took you for a dreamer.”

“I do dream. I dream of revenue unspoiled by avarice.”

“I am happy in this work, Adam. I admire you . . . very much. Of course, you may have your party.”

“Splendid!”

“Do I have to come?”

“I want you by my side, my associate . . . my partner.”

“Partner?”

“In time the theatre will make a pretty little nest egg for you.”

Heathcliff blinked. “You want me to share in the profits?”

“Of course. Why should you continue to run a business that doesn’t belong to you?”

“I guess, I had hoped you might consider keeping me under your employ, a salaried position of some sort, but this is . . .”

Adam smiled. “If you’ll remember, all I wanted was to sing in a venue that didn’t require a cover charge or tithe. It was you who broadened my scope and helped me see the prospects in my endeavor. You were the one who found the land and envisioned its real potential. It is my responsibility as primary investor to ensure the entire franchise doesn’t go bankrupt, but then . . .”

“I can’t believe it. You are offering to me a full partnership in your theatre?”

“Heathcliff, I want you to own it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the cook stopped exclaiming her thanks to the heavens, she clapped her hands and immediately set to work organizing a dinner party for Adam’s guests. The whole house was buzzing for days. When the evening finally arrived, it was a marvel. Adam was an impressive host. Heathcliff had seen him at the inn, but in a more formal setting, Adam truly shined. He was quite the gentleman. Everyone was rapt with his wit and business acumen. He spoke well, persuasively. He laughed, genuinely. Heathcliff wondered why he had opposed having company to the Orland House. Adam made it seem easy. In fact the public respect for Adam was so immense it included Heathcliff by association. As a whole, the townspeople believed their prayers were directly responsible for bringing these two men together in such an important manner.

Heathcliff no longer resisted Adam’s insistence that they were destined to help one another reach their aspirations. Adam prepared himself to further convince Heathcliff of his worthiness, but apparently Adam’s faith alone had encouraged Heathcliff to honor himself more. A few chosen leaders in the community began to consider the Orland House as a gentleman’s club of sorts, a gathering of a privileged few by invitation only. Heathcliff wondered what his family would make of that – their gypsy boy, proprietor of a theatre – guest of an elite class.

All the staff of the Orland House followed the butler’s lead and began addressing the Lieutenant Commander’s bookkeeper more formally as Master Heathcliff. Unfortunately, John was more prominent in the household in a variety of ways. Heathcliff determined that he simply had more to do now that they had frequent visitors, but Adam suspected he was keeping an eye on them, personally. John’s remonstrative glares had not gone unnoticed. He seemed immune to Adam’s charm much as the headmasters of his school days were when Adam was particularly impish.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“Nonsense. You’re adorable.”

“I think so, too, and yet he favors you.”

“Well, that would make him the only one who holds you inferior.”

“I’m only saying I haven’t earned his rebuke.” 

“The fact that he hasn’t fallen victim to your smile does not equate chastisement. His interests like mine, reside solely in the administration of exemplary service on behalf of the Lieutenant Commander in his absence.”

Adam stepped closer. “I much prefer your services.”

“Adam Lambert, you are beyond redemption.” Heathcliff let himself be backed into the wall.

“Kiss me.” 

Heathcliff pulled Adam at the waist until he stumbled into Heathcliff’s arms. It was dangerous. Their private interactions were relegated by discretion. It remained unspoken between them this new aspect of their association as it pertained to their intimacy. It was one thing to be familiar as friends but quite another to mix business with pleasure. Adam deemed Heathcliff ever more an equal, and it heightened his desirability. So far there had been no discernible conflict of any significance.

They visited the farm, but it was no longer their getaway. Word had gotten round about the future theatre. Folks journeyed to the site in order to marvel at the development. Heathcliff had been right. The townspeople loved the long, scenic route and brought picnics in order to enjoy the tranquility of the countryside even though there was nothing yet to see. The last time the men ventured out before the remodeling of the barn, Adam tempted Heathcliff up to the hayloft. They kissed beneath the dappled light streaming through the rafters. Heathcliff was supple in his hands. It was the first time Adam had taken Heathcliff into his mouth and subsequently taken one more portion of his virginity. Heathcliff, mindful of the risk and utter debauchery had covered his face and quietly come apart. Adam had the audacity to stop when Heathcliff was about to burst into a million sparks of light. He licked Heathcliff’s face then kissed him full on the mouth. Heathcliff could smell himself . . . taste himself. He realized instantly how vain his modesty had been. Adam commanded him to watch. The sight of his cock slipping between Adam’s lips, slick and pink, was spellbinding. He climaxed so explosively, Adam choked and spit. He wiped Heathcliff’s seed off his cheek with the back of his hand. Heathcliff kissed him hard, deliberately probing the inside of Adam’s mouth with his tongue in order to drink of him. Adam peeled him away. The look on Adam’s face was a mixture of surprise and terror. Heathcliff heard it then . . . voices. Their horses were grazing and visible to any passers-by. They escaped down to the milking stalls just as a handful of townspeople walked into the front of the barn. Adam and Heathcliff circled back to greet them from the entrance. Everyone seemed startled and laughed jovially. Adam showed them around. These tourists had come in two separate carriages. The fact that Adam and Heathcliff had failed to hear them approach was sobering. 

In two days, wagons loaded with lumber delivered working men and materials. The farmhouse was made ready for borders. The foreman, along with his crew were able to remain on site for the duration of the construction. It had been Heathcliff’s idea to help prevent the approach of vagrants and vandals. Adam arrived daily to oversee the implementation of structural specifications. The men he had hired were very capable. Finally the day came when Adam was simply in the way.

By the time he became a regular member of the household once again, Adam felt off course. He suffered the consequences of impeccable governance which left him too much time on his hands. He and Heathcliff had not been together in any personal capacity for a couple of weeks. The freedom to fantasize without the liberty to act made him periodically stomp and rant. Heathcliff had missed the familiar cacophony. He found Adam one evening in the library. He was welcomed into the room with a chorus of falling books and vigorous cursing. 

“What are you looking for?”

“Where are you hiding your pornography?”

“You’ll find no such thing on these shelves.”

“In your desk, then? Under your bed?”

“What the devil has bewitched you?”

“You.” Adam stepped off a stool and glided across the room. He scooped Heathcliff into his arms and smothered him with hot, breathy kisses over his chin and neck as Heathcliff attempted to wriggle away. 

“Adam, we mustn’t.”

Adam sank onto a couch irritably. “When? When can I have you?”

Heathcliff was scanning the book bindings. “You have me now.”

“Let me be more specific then. When can I have you beneath me, naked and faint?”

“Shhhhh.”

“Oh, bollocks!”

“Here. Stop pouting.” Heathcliff brought to him an armful of texts. 

“What’s this?”

“Art and literature.”

“Is it vulgar?”

“Yes.”

Adam chuckled. “It is?!”

“Yes. It’s quite lewd I assure you.”

“What have we here?” Adam began to peruse the volume on top.

“This is a book on Greek mythology. You’ll find the story of Zeus and Ganymede to your liking.”

“Oh, I do admire the Greeks.”

“This one is art from ancient India.”

“Well, I’ll be damned, the Kama Sutra, as I live and breathe.”

“You studied these things at university?”

“Not in the classroom, and my . . . let’s call them ‘peer tutors’ were less than proficient. The only copy I’ve ever seen of Asian art was well worn and a bit stained.”

“I’m appalled.”

“So am I that you’ve kept these from me so long. The reproductions are exquisite!”

“I see you’re deeply enthralled, but when you have a moment, I have another selection for you.”

“Do tell.” 

“These are Egyptian stories about corruption and seduction . . . kings and their generals. The god Horus impregnates Seth!”

“The poor bugger! That’s hardly fair. Of all the trials we must endure, paternity should not be one of them.” Heathcliff became quiet. “I’m sorry. I’ve offended you.”

“I’m not offended.”

“My choices are mine alone. It’s the confines of society that make me bitter.”

“I wonder about that.”

Adam gave Heathcliff his full attention. “Perhaps we should have a talk.”

“I never considered anyone but Cathy for me. I loved her when we were children and just kept loving her as we grew. Why would I marry anyone else? No one else compared. No one else mattered. I see now that I expected too much from her.”

“Heathcliff, she said she loved you. What were you supposed to expect?”

“I knew who I was, and yet I believed I could build a life with her.”

“Conventions be damned, Heathcliff. Poor, orphaned gypsy boys deserve happiness too.”

“That’s not what I meant about my identity.” Heathcliff braced himself. “I argued with you when you said we had things in common because I was too afraid to admit it to myself.”

“You’re like me.” Heathcliff nodded. “I suppose I should have known given our confidences.”

“That isn’t necessarily proof.” 

“Most of my peers at school married and started families regardless of their preferences, but . . .”

“I was purposefully deceitful. I feel I’ve been living a lie.”

“The real lie is marrying for money or some kind of social directive. The people who deny love between consenting adults because it’s declared indecent by holy ordinance are those who practice deceit. Your life is not a lie, Heathcliff.” Adam picked up a book. “Look at this! Look at all of these! Pages and pages of . . .”

“Adam.” Heathcliff took the book from Adam’s hand and put it aside. “I know now, there are other worlds.”

“And some of us can build our own.”

“I hope it won’t change things between us.”

“My sweet, sweet Heathcliff. It changes everything.” Adam took Heathcliff by the shoulders. “The fondness and affection we feel for each other is not a charade. What we have right here, right now is no myth.”

Heathcliff put his hand on Adam’s heart. “Are you real?”

Adam smiled and clutched the hand at his breast. “Yes, I’m real.”

They kissed carefully as if the air might crack and break around them. As expected, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“Master Heathcliff, may I entreat a word with you?”

“Yes, of course.” Heathcliff let John into the room. Adam had gone to the window, but all he could see was his reflection in the dark. He turned politely.

“Good evening, John.”

John seemed too anxious to mask his disapproval. “Forgive my intrusion, but it is a matter of urgent business. I shall wait in your office.”

Adam shrugged helplessly. “You should go.”

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“Of course.” Adam waved his hand over the books on the table. “I have plenty to do in your absence.”

Heathcliff smiled weakly. “Adam.”

“I’m fine.”

Heathcliff stepped into his arms and kissed him warmly on the mouth even though the door to the library was still ajar.

Adam whispered. “If you don’t go now, I’ll take you on the table.”

“I want you to . . . take me. Come to my chamber tonight.” He turned at the door having left Adam totally speechless. “I’ll be waiting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the house had quieted and everyone including Heathcliff had turned in for the night, Adam gathered resolve. He wanted this. Even though, Adam was at ease in the bedroom, the stakes had never been higher. This lover meant something, maybe everything.

Heathcliff answered when Adam knocked. It was an odd formality that made them smile bashfully between whispers. 

“Won’t you come in?”

“I’d be delighted.”

They climbed into bed and took off their night clothes. There was a slight hesitation when deciding to go over or under the covers. Over for now . . . under after. 

“Put out the candle. I want to see you bathed in moonlight.”

“I knew you were a romantic.” Before he snuffed the flame, Adam saw what Heathcliff intended for him to see, a green glass bottle of olive oil intricately designed. “You’ve been planning this.”

“We haven’t the luxury of spontaneity, but finally . . . we have time.” 

They made love lazily, kissing and touching, each movement intended to bring the other closer as they melted into one. Their sensitivities were heightened as they attempted more precisely than ever to read each other’s signals. Adam had only to lift his hip to indicate he wanted Heathcliff to swallow him down. Heathcliff had only to bend his knee to give Adam permission to administer his fingers. 

Adam warmed the oil as he rubbed it on Heathcliff’s skin. Heathcliff rested his head on Adam’s thigh so he could concentrate completely on what Adam was going to do to him. Adam circled the sensitive pucker of Heathcliff’s skin. He slid a finger inside Heathcliff’s body and felt him clench reflexively. Heathcliff began to move. He took Adam’s cock back into his mouth, savoring the transfer of awareness – mouth to cock to finger to hole. Whatever Heathcliff could do, Adam would match. When Heathcliff bobbed, Adam tapped. If he pulled off, Adam pulled out. Heathcliff flicked his tongue, and Adam curled his finger. They drove each other mad for release. 

Adam brought Heathcliff into his arms, and Heathcliff turned around. Adam mouthed his neck and shoulders. He moved Heathcliff’s hips where he wanted them and pressed his body snugly against his backside. Adam oiled himself and slid rhythmically between Heathcliff’s cheeks. They spooned like that until Heathcliff rolled fully onto his stomach. Adam spread Heathcliff’s legs with his knees and gently nudged the head of his cock against Heathcliff’s hole.

Heathcliff gasped then flexed his back. Adam dabbed in as Heathcliff breathed. Adam guided himself further. He pulled back then pushed in again. Heathcliff’s muscles fluttered around the head of Adam’s cock then opened for him to go deeper. Heathcliff bit his lip. Adam put his hands flat on Heathcliff’s back and rolled his hips again and again until he glistened silver in the moonlight. Heathcliff rose up on all fours. Adam helped him then helped himself.

Several minutes passed as they listened only to the sound of their own breathing. Heathcliff was the first to speak. He sat up and wrapped a sheet around himself. 

“Adam.”

“Yes.”

“Are you hungry?”

Adam laughed. “No . . . not particularly.”

“Neither am I. I’m not hungry or cold or sad or afraid . . . or angry. I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow.”

“It’s called happiness.”

“I like it. Are you happy too?”

“I am . . . right this moment, I am happy. It doesn’t last for always.”

“That’s all right. Everything is going to be all right.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heathcliff and Adam found each other on common ground then immediately launched in opposite directions. They had to find a balance between holding on and letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks! I'm back to work on divided time. Thanks for waiting patiently. <3

Adam stared out the open window. Every horizon from the garden below was familiar, North – South – East – West, he could draw them all from memory if he were so inclined. Although many found comfort in such recognition, it alerted a certain apprehension in Adam. He rarely stayed this long in one place. Now that the construction of the theater was underway, his participation was at a lull. Adam hated to wait. He had grown restless at the Orland House. Perhaps a change in scenery, a short trip into the city might help him breathe again. Adam heard Heathcliff stirring from the bed, and he sighed. It was the absolute worst time in the world for him to go anywhere. 

Adam couldn’t leave Heathcliff to oversee their theater project alone, nor could he abandon him to walk this path of personal discovery at its most exigent stage. Heathcliff seemed as vulnerable as a bird at first flight. The very character of the man had changed almost overnight, and Adam felt that perhaps he had inadvertently taken away Heathcliff’s defenses. Heathcliff, always stalwart and steadfast had yielded to Adam so willingly, so completely. Adam recalled the expectation in his eyes as if to say, how glorious, Adam, what’s next? It was a question Adam was too afraid to answer for himself let alone for Heathcliff as well. Heathcliff had asked him if he was real, and Adam had said he was. How selfish he had been! He had coaxed Heathcliff away from his idyllic dream of Cathy only to trade one fantasy for another. Adam had led him down this path with a false impression of freedom. In reality, Adam’s world was wrought by compromise and secrecy, even fear. How could Heathcliff ever be happy with that?

Heathcliff awoke from a peaceful sleep and beheld his lover silhouetted by the pre-dawn glow of the heavens. He smiled that his body roused even before the memory of the night was fully restored. Unlike Cathy, Adam had not been bound to him by an illusory tether of spirit across the miles but in mind and body, as real lovers should be. Adam had been passionate but gentle, confident but cautious, ever aware of Heathcliff’s pleasure. For the first time in his life, Heathcliff believed that he was exactly where he was supposed to be . . . with Adam. He felt safe but also courageous, as if he could face whatever might lie ahead. Before he fell asleep, he had told Adam that he was looking forward to the next day, but it didn’t stop there. Heathcliff saw many blissful days ahead. He stretched, lazily as if he might float out the window, completely unaware that Adam was tempted to tumble from the ledge.

“Good morning.”

Adam withheld the good. “Morning.” 

“What are you looking at?”

“The last of the stars and shadows.”

Heathcliff crept up behind Adam and wrapped a blanket around their nakedness. Adam settled against him, solid and strong and wished the world would kindly go away.

“Mmmmm, you’re so warm.”

Heathcliff kissed him under the ear. “I was sleeping.”

“Yes, you were just like an angel.”

Heathcliff huffed. “There’s more changeling in me than cherub.”

Adam frowned. “Changeling?”

“When my benefactor brought me home to his family, they were already mourning the loss of a son. Life is so fragile, isn’t it? so fleeting? I’m afraid I proved a poor substitute – dark they said, devil-born.”

Adam turned around. “They were the ones at fault, Heathcliff. You have broken free from their restraints and re-defined yourself. You must know that.”

Heathcliff tipped Adam’s chin and kissed his lips. “I am your lover, and that’s all that matters now.”

“No, it isn’t. You are much, much more.” Adam was so concerned about his independence he didn’t realize Heathcliff was merely flirting. “You’re the manager of this house, a nascent industrialist and visionary, a skilled statistician by design. You’re well-dressed and well-read.”

Heathcliff was amused by Adam’s outburst. “Shall I put on a tie, then?” 

“I’m not joking. You are strong and capable just as you are. You must believe me.”

“Adam, I do believe you and trust you. I follow your lead because you have opened my eyes.” He kissed Adam again. “And opened my heart.”

“And opened your legs. Isn’t that what you mean?” Adam panicked at the idea of Heathcliff falling in love.

“I suppose one has led to the other.”

Adam rubbed against him, keeping their connection physical where Adam felt safe. “You like it don’t you?”

Heathcliff flushed. “Yes.”

“Tell me. Tell me what you like.” Adam licked Heathcliff’s mouth. “Go on. Can’t you say it?”

Heathcliff lacked the vocabulary. “I . . . I like how you touch me.”

“Like this?” Adam cupped Heathcliff’s groin, rough enough to make him rise onto his toes then land again, full in Adam’s hand.

“Yesss.” Adam was stroking him now. “Ah . . . Adam, let’s go back to bed.”

“So you can close your eyes and cover your head? Are you ashamed?” 

Heathcliff was confused and aroused. Was this a game? “I’m not ashamed to be with you, or to be like you.”

Adam wanted to be no one’s idol. Didn’t Heathcliff realize that Adam had been taking him apart piece by piece without any hope of putting him back together again? “So you want to be like me, do you?” 

Adam tore the sheet from Heathcliff’s body leaving him completely exposed. He knelt with his back to the wall. He lapped and swirled his tongue around Heathcliff’s cock. Heathcliff stumbled forward, surprised and off balance. Adam opened wide, and Heathcliff filled the hollow of Adam’s cheek. He pulled back, resisting the urge to fuck in again. 

“Go on. Do it – just like me.”

Heathcliff felt he was being tested. He had been the receiver, but he didn’t want to shy away if Adam liked this. Beyond the window, the sun was rising, new dawn . . . new day. 

This time Heathcliff pushed past Adam’s lips with enough might to bump Adam’s crown on the sill. Heathcliff felt clumsy and cradled Adam’s head. Adam fought him. Heathcliff grew tired of the baiting and gripped Adam firmly by the hair. He lunged, and Adam coughed. Heathcliff settled his stance and braced himself with his free hand. Finally Adam was pinned. He stopped resisting and let his jaw go slack.

Mindful of teeth and choking, Heathcliff’s penetrations were relatively shallow, but Adam sucked hard on the draw. Heathcliff was a slave to his reflexes. He was succumbing much faster in command of his own rapture. His thighs went tight, and he was coming and coming all at once. He couldn’t stop himself from sprinkling Adam’s upturned face with ejaculate. He grappled for the tattered sheet in a heap on the floor. He tried to clean Adam but half smothered him instead. Adam jerked away. 

“Are you trying to kill me?!” Frustration elevated the volume of his voice.

“Shhhhhhh! I’m sorry.” 

Heathcliff accidentally wiped the soiled linen into Adam’s eye. “Goddammit!”

“Shhhhh! I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” Adam spat the words he couldn’t shout. 

“Forgive me. I’ve upset you. I lost myself.”

Adam grabbed Heathcliff and shook him. “You’re not lost! I never want you to utter those words again. You’re not a changeling, a demon, or a gypsy. And you’re not me, but your own man. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Heathcliff searched Adam’s face for sanity. 

“It’s time you choose your own path. Stop relying on me to carry you along.” Adam released him rather forcefully, knocking him backward. He’d left deep red marks on Heathcliff’s arms. He got to his feet, his face blooming with remorse and helped Heathcliff stand. Adam slowly donned his clothes, too dazed to fasten them. 

Heathcliff put on a robe and squared his shoulders. “I’d like you to leave.”

“Heathcliff . . .”

“Please, just go.”

“I should explain myself.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“I awoke this morning in a lowly place, and . . .”

“When we met, I was as lowly as I have ever been. I believed I had nothing to offer to anyone, but you asked only kindness of me, and it has been my greatest triumph to give it. Put yourself in my place. Imagine if you can, the enormity of grace that befell me and you will no longer mistake my humility for deprecation.”

Adam was overcome by the magnitude of his error. “Heathcliff . . . please.” 

“You insist that I be my own man when you have proven in this childish display that between the two of us, you are the more insecure. Furthermore, Mr. Lambert, manipulation does not make you stronger by wit or by force and if you ever again lay hands on me in anger, I will give you a just cause for violence.”

Heathcliff shut the door in Adam’s face. Adam went to his room to wash and dress without daring to look in the mirror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heathcliff had gone to his office first thing in the morning. Adam stayed away. He ate nothing for breakfast. The cook didn’t bother to protest his lack of nutrition as per usual. In fact the entire household seemed distracted, under duress of some kind. The library was Adam’s customary escape, but with disparity on his conscience he found no solace in books. Finally his appetite betrayed him, and Adam sought nourishment in the kitchen. He started for the garden then noticed a strange man standing among the perennials.

“There’s a man out there! Fetch John.”

The cook followed his gaze. “That is John.”

“Is it?” This man was dressed in summer-weight tweeds and a cap.

The cook sighed heavily. “Indeed.”

“What’s the matter with him?”

“Didn’t Master Heathcliff tell you? John is leaving today.”

No wonder the house was at odds. “Leaving? Why?”

The cook paused in her work. “Perhaps John has asked Master Heathcliff for privacy.”

“I don’t understand.”

The cook lowered her voice. “John’s mother has suffered a stroke. The physician isn’t hopeful about her recovery. She has asked for John to come.”

Adam was flooded with memory of his own mother’s passing. She had fallen ill so suddenly and was suffering the delirium of fever by the time Adam could reach her. She had squeezed his hand in her final moments. Being able to say goodbye had brought Adam immeasurable peace. 

“Must he journey far?” Adam asked with partial envy that even though he was embarking with a heavy heart, at least John was going somewhere outside the confines of these walls.

“It’s a good bit to the north. John is a proud man. It was difficult to ask Master Heathcliff for an advance to pay his way by train.”

Now Adam understood John’s fretful urgency the night before. It must have been on Heathcliff’s mind too – life, fragile and fleeting. The happiness of a moment is all anyone ever has, really. Why was that a lesson Adam failed to learn at every opportunity?

“Time is of the essence. I could have fronted him enough coin to leave immediately.”

“John would sooner wrestle a bear than take a hand out or shirk his duty, as it were. I’m sure he stayed on ‘til morning in order to tend to Master Heathcliff and make the necessary arrangements for his absence.”

“How long will he be gone?”

“A fortnight at the very least. We’ll all give a hand.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Against the cook’s advice, Adam joined John in the garden. The butler was always doing something even when he was awaiting the next command. Adam was daunted by his stillness. 

Grim and stormy as a lord, John barely turned his head when Adam cleared his throat. “Do you require my service, Master Lambert?”

“No . . . just a word if I’m not intruding.”

John faced him. His countenance was politely impartial. “Of course not.”

“The cook explained to me the conditions of your departure.”

“I see.”

“I have come to give my condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“I lost my mother two years ago come September.”

John had been looking straight ahead, but now his eyes rested on Adam’s face. “So young? Your father?”

“Living, but we don’t speak.”

“Do you have brothers? Sisters?”

“No.”

“An only child . . .” John appeared to be calculating the sum of Adam’s history as a credit to his first impression. 

Adam was suddenly self-conscious. “I wasn’t looking for pity.”

“I haven’t offered you any.”

Adam should have listened to the cook. “I meant only that I have been in your place.”

“I hardly think so. Tell me, Master Lambert, do you miss your mother?”

“Yes, very much.”

“I won’t miss mine. I will finally be free.”

“Free? You mean alone? Won’t you have family to assist you upon arrival?”

“I am the eldest of six siblings. Four will be present, however I doubt very much in their assistance save my sister, Margaret.”

“Are the two of you close?”

“Master Lambert, I’ve given my life to service. I am committed solely to the Lieutenant Commander and his family . . . and Heathcliff.”

“I’ll warrant being firstborn is remarkably suitable to a man of your station.”

“Are you implying I should remember to mind my place?”

“I was merely complimenting you on your leadership.”

“Leadership? By the very definition of my office I am ordered to follow. I obey commands, maintain order, and hold my tongue.”

“What is it?! Why have you habitually demonstrated such hostility toward me? I demand you speak freely!”

“That would not be wise.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

John was seething. “You’re loud! You stomp and whine. You slam doors and break things. Always, always the center of attention, clearing a raucous path throughout an otherwise peaceful abode.”

“You make me sound like an animal.”

“You ARE an animal! I know what you’ve done. I disposed of the gowns and the sheets you’ve clawed to shreds. I saw the marks you left on his arms. He adores you and yet you handle him like rough trade. What kind of brute are you?” 

Adam was stunned speechless. He regained his composure before he attempted to respond. “You presume too much. I make no excuses for the evidence at hand, but your severe estimation of my character is unfounded.” 

John sneered. “You dare to deny that you’re desecrating him?”

“You forget yourself!”

“Then I beg your pardon for I am defenseless in my grief.” John’s apology was a mockery.

Adam realized the inevitable loss of John’s mother was not the only source of his sorrow. “You love him, don’t you?”

John’s face crumpled like tissue for a fraction of a second then snapped back to rigid indifference when the footman arrived.

“I’ve got the carriage prepared. Master Heathcliff is waiting to bid you farewell. Shall we be off, John?”

John interrogated the man over his proposed readiness then nodded curtly his approval once the footman had affirmed each point of his instructions. 

“Report to Master Heathcliff that I shall follow forthwith.” John faced Adam as if he were preparing a testimony. “When I return to the Orland House, I shall prepare my letter of resig . . .”

Adam interrupted him. “When you return to the Orland House, you will find it as you left it. Your directives shall be followed to the letter.”

John bowed his head as he always did when following orders. “Then with your permission, I make my departure, leaving my staff in your capable hands.”

“I have no doubt the servants will honor you by their performance.”

John turned his back and strode away. “Their conduct is the least of my concern.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam waited in the garden until he was sure John was gone. He hoped to avoid any further confrontation whatsoever. Perhaps he, too would take his leave and journey into the city after all. Adam made for the stairs, but just like weeks before, timing seemed predisposed to coincidence. He and Heathcliff entered the hall at the same time, and one of them inevitably, would have to bow out of the way of the other. Instead of going past, they stood still. Adam doubted Heathcliff would accept an apology, but he prepared to offer one anyway. He didn’t get the chance.

“Adam, are you all right?”

Heathcliff had said it so softly, Adam wasn’t sure he had heard him. “What?”

“You appear distraught.”

“I’m distracted I suppose.”

“You came from the garden. Were you talking to John?”

Adam glanced up and back down again. “Yes.”

Heathcliff sighed heavily. “I should have told you about that before.” Adam’s thoughts were in battle over how he felt and what he wanted to say. Heathcliff again took the initiative. “Please, won’t you come into my office?”

Adam followed Heathcliff into the room. Heathcliff shut the door and locked it, something he had never done before. He sat behind his desk and motioned for Adam to take the chair opposite. Somehow the formality was oddly comforting.

“I didn’t tell you about John because I feared it would upset you. It’s quite a delicate matter.”

“Yes, I agree. One must maintain an amount of privacy.”

“I knew you would understand.”

“You could have told me, though. I would have been more sensitive just now.”

“I meant to tell you this morning, but . . .”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I did most of the talking this morning, blithering on and on. In fact, I was equally articulate with John, much to my chagrin.”

“I’m sure you knew what to say much better than I.”

“The two of us, John and I, are not amicable. Just because we’re both . . . doesn’t mean we are . . .”

Heathcliff looked at him quizzically. “At least you’ve had a comparable experience. I don’t even remember my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“I sometimes envy the Lieutenant Commander’s children. They have a loving mother. But, I can hardly mourn for something I never knew.”

“Oh . . .” Adam’s mind was racing again. Heathcliff was talking about John’s mother, not his secret admiration. Adam wondered why he even considered it. 

“When John told me his news, my first thought was of you and how it might bring your own painful memories to the surface.”

Adam decided not to reveal John’s affections. It would do Heathcliff no good to know that the butler was in love with him. Although Adam had no expectation of John, it was a matter of principle. Adam remembered the grocer’s son and his position then, that no man should lose employment over the desires of his heart. John was no exception.  
“John wasn’t particularly accepting of my sympathies, but at least I served as an immovable mark for him to launch his frustration.”

Heathcliff’s smile was barely there. “An immovable mark? So that’s what happened this morning. You were venting your frustration . . . at me.”

Adam hung his head. “You’ve seen my worst. I hope I have opportunity to show you my best before I take my leave.”

“If you intend to go away after you’ve shown me your best, then you’ve only given me incentive to hearten your depravity.”

“Would you have me by your side if I were cruel?”

“No, and you will never be. You can be obnoxious at times, but cruelty isn’t in you.”

“You’re too kind.” 

“Adam, I have no desire to flatter you. My observation is very simply the truth. You have suffered, but I think you haven’t an accurate assessment for what cruelty is. The Heathcliff you knew first was the victim of true cruelty at the hands of Cathy’s brother and her suitor. The Heathcliff before you now is the product of your benevolence. That being said, I do not require your presence to sustain me.”

“You don’t need me, but you do like me.”

Heathcliff smiled. “When I consider my future, I like to imagine you there.”

“How far into the future?”

“I think, having you at supper this evening would be delightful.”

“That’s very ambitious of you. I shall have to reflect on this monstrous commitment before I accept.”

“What other future are you contemplating, if I may inquire?”

“My future thus far has been determined for me. Unfortunately, I find myself at the mercy of the wind. I don’t think I mentioned that although I attended school, I never finished.” 

“No, you didn’t mention that. What happened?”

“I accused a professor of having his way with me.”

“Adam . . . no.”

“I had such affection for this professor but not . . . not like that. He was a mentor to me where my own father sorely lacked. Then he took advantage.”

“Reprehensible villain!”

“I felt at fault. I was ashamed. I vowed to forever keep it a secret. When he advanced on me again, I defended myself and got away. The next day, I was summoned to the headmaster’s office where my professor stood sulking, a black eye and bruises. He had reported me for the aggressor after having what he claimed was a disagreement over my scholarship. With my history of delinquency, I was denied the opportunity of rebuttal in Honor Court before the student body. I had a feeling I wasn’t his only victim, but I doubt the others would have come forward. It was a high price to pay.” 

“You did the right thing, regardless.”

“The faculty board not only denied my claims, they refused to make my accusations a matter of formal record. I was expelled before term on the premise that I suffered intellectual impediment and was thus prone to unpredictable outbursts of violence. I went home in disgrace. After heated conversations with my mother, my father attempted rather begrudgingly to teach me his business, and I, as you well know, ultimately rejected it when I discovered what his business entailed. I left, the first time of my own accord.”

“What did you do all those years?”

“I wandered about, exploring new landscapes, new occupations . . . new lovers. Then I’d be forced to leave having worn out my welcome and my purse. I barely made my return home in time to say farewell to my mother before she passed on.”

“And that’s when your father cast you out for good?”

“Yes. That’s why I must have my own home one day so that no one will ever again have the power to banish me.” Adam grew so solemn that Heathcliff went to him. He offered his hand and Adam held it. “I’ve been wrong about you all along, haven’t I?”

“It was a misunderstanding, but I don’t feel you have wronged me, necessarily.”

“This morning, I flicked you aside like a parasitic nit, as if your dependence on me somehow drained my life’s blood, when, in reality, it is I who have grown completely dependent on you. Such arrogance! How do you tolerate me, Heathcliff? There is no excuse for my behavior whatsoever.”

“Now hold on. There is a possible explanation for your state of mind. If you’ll remember, I very likely gave you a concussion.” Heathcliff rubbed the back of Adam’s head, tenderly and kissed him.

Adam’s voice lacked any resolve. “I absolutely forbid you to forgive me.”

“You hold no dominion over me, Mr. Lambert.” He kissed Adam more deeply and made him shiver.

“Ahhh, Heathcliff, why must you torment me so?”

He licked into Adam’s mouth. “It’s effortless.”

Adam stood and pulled Heathcliff firmly into his arms. Heathcliff unbuttoned Adam’s shirt so he could caress the broad expanse of his chest. Adam rolled his hips into Heathcliff’s groin, and they were at once helplessly hard. They looked into each other’s eyes, hearts pounding.

Adam shook his head. “We can’t.” 

“We can.” Heathcliff started to unfasten his pants. 

“Impossible. If someone should . . .”

“No one will.” Heathcliff’s voice was gruff and breathless. He stepped one foot out of the leg of his trousers and perched on the edge of the desk. He grabbed the lapels of Adam’s weskit and crushed their lips together. “Please, . . . hurry.” 

Adam opened his fly and crooked his elbow under Heathcliff’s knee. He teased Heathcliff’s hole with the slippery tip of his cock, then entered him. Heathcliff’s head lolled to the side, one great gasp after another with Adam’s every thrust forever and forever it seemed until Heathcliff lay all the way backward. Adam crouched over him. He flung Heathcliff’s leg over his shoulder and went deeper. The desk scooted noisily off kilter. Adam shook from head to foot and filled him with seed. He stomped and came free of Heathcliff’s body with a grunt. Heathcliff, handling his own finish missed the fullness and whined. Adam pushed back in at the perfect angle and brought Heathcliff instant release. They breathed together and kissed slowly with trembling lips.

Adam took a handkerchief from his pocket. He gave it to Heathcliff then pulled him up. They put themselves back together and checked for noticeable discrepancy in their appearances. They set the desk right again and looked around the room until their eyes met. They smiled at one another as if they’d gotten away with a heist of some kind.  
Heathcliff unlocked the door, but he blocked Adam’s exit. No matter how thorough they had been to cover the evidence of their transgression, Heathcliff’s radiance was unmistakable satiation. 

Adam caressed Heathcliff’s blushing cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You, my sweet friend, look properly fucked.”

“Tell me, will I ever be able to look at you without my mind going blank and my cock going stiff?”

“I certainly hope not.”

They were drawn into each other’s arms again when the cook rapped on the door.

“Master Heathcliff?”

Adam made it across the room in two giant steps, and Heatcliff opened the door. 

“Yes?”

“Oh! So sorry to disturb you. You know John usually brings you a message, but since he’s away, well, I could keep your letters until dinner if you prefer. I wouldn’t want to . . .”

“It’s fine. Thank you, truly.” Heathcliff held out his hand for the envelope, but the cook kept it at her breast.

“Well, actually, I was looking for . . .” She looked past Heathcliff. “Welll, there you are, Master Lambert.”

“Me?”

The cook came into the room and handed Adam the letter. “This came for you just a moment ago.”

Adam turned it over and back. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now don’t the two of you get so wrapped up in your doings that you forget to take tea.”

Heathcliff was helping her out the door. “I promise we’ll break from our doings by then.”

“Well I if I can be of any further assistance, just ring for me or one of the other servants. I wouldn’t want for John’s absence to be . . .”

Adam grinned. “Please don’t worry. You’re doing a marvelous job.”

“Oh, well thank you, Master Lambert.” She curtsied and was on her way.

Heathcliff rolled his eyes. “She’s a curious one.”

“I appreciate her perpetual cheer.” Adam located the letter opener and sliced the seal. 

“Were you expecting a letter?”

Adam was reading then his eyes brightened. “Oh, Heathcliff! This is a letter from the friend I told you about from school. He’s the one who will connect us to actors and stage production teams for our theater. I wasn’t sure he’d actually be interested, but he sounds very enthusiastic.”

“How delightful!”

Adam continued to read. “He should be coming our way in a couple weeks and will contact me again when he’s settled in the city.”

“It’s very exciting. We’ll have most of the structure completed by then. Do you think he’ll want to see it?”

Adam beamed. “I’m sure of it! There’s more.” He read further and became perplexed. “He says he’s been looking for me a very long time and had given up hope of reunion. He says he has something to confer that he can divulge only in person. I wonder what that could be?”

“It sounds important. You should go into the city when he arrives.”

Adam took Heathcliff’s hand and held it to his lips. “Come with me.”

“John shall be returning about that time. My duty is to the Orland House first. Besides, it will be appropriate to give yourself an opportunity to catch up on old times. We’ll meet after.”

Adam kissed his forehead. “Perhaps you’re right. At the very least, it will afford me unrestricted tribute to the handsome drifter who wandered into a small town and found a friend in a reclusive bookkeeper both brilliant and beautiful . . .” Adam whispered, “a generous lover, lithe as a dancer.”

Heathcliff shoved him playfully. “Indeed! Lucky bloke, this drifter. Do I know him?”

“Even better than he knows himself.”


End file.
